Deathly Inherit
by CadyD
Summary: Valerie Lovett and her brother Seville always knew there was something eerie about their grandmother's old house on Fleet Street. But, while being forced into it after the disappearance of their parents proves just how eerie, it explains some things too.
1. This Is Us

_**This is an idea I just recently came up with. These modern-day, first person, OC Sweeney Todd fanfics are inspired off of Demolition . Lover . 14's work on them. Really, I did, indeed, get greatly inspired to write a story like that since I read her's. Not to worry though. This story has its own original twist (at least I hope). **_

_**Fuller Summary: **After insisting on searching for their parents who never returned from a trip out of town, Valerie Lovett and her brother Seville find themselves staying at their grandmother's house on Fleet Street. They don't believe the bloody story that attatches itself to the building. Little do they know, they're actually far more apart of it than they ever would have believed possible._

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><p><strong><em>Chapter 1<em>**

It all happened so fast.

So fast, we didn't even know what hit us, Seville and I.

I was sitting in my room, my upper back a little sore from leaning against the headboard with no pillow for cushioning, and reading, as I usually did. Any kid my age that lived around there would have thought me crazy for staying in the house on such a nice, sunny day...

...but truth be told, I never really liked the sun all that much. I absolutely _hated _when my skin peeled. I found it disgusting, unnerving, and of course, itchy.

Mum said that trait was passed through our family's genes...

I never really knew what she meant by that though. Little did I know that I'd be finding out sooner than I thought.

The sound of laughter from outside caught my attention, and I shifted around on my bed to gaze out over the window's sill, narrowing my eyes against the sun's glare that poked through the trees. My brother, Seville, was standing out on the sidewalk. He seemed to have halted from making his way into the house. I couldn't help but smile at him. He looked so much like Dad, with his messy bronze colored hair and hazel eyes. He even had Dad's smile, which wasn't hard at all to notice, and it was directed at the group of younger kids who were playing in the street.

I, on the other hand, looked just like Mum, with my dark reddish hair that always tended to fall a bit curly. Mum, however, liked to keep her's up, while I perferred mine down. I had dark green eyes as well, just like her's. One thing I had of her's which I didn't particulary care for was how pale my skin was. It was...almost frighteningly pale. I was usually teased in school for being an albino. Pfft, but anyone with a decent amount of logic would know that albinos have _red_ eyes. _Not _green. (Oh yeah, I'm...kind of a nit-picky person, something to add onto that glorious trait about the sun.)

But then again, it was normally the dumb-asses who wasted time bullying, wasn't it?

Seville's skin was very faintly tanned. I suppose most girls like that stuff. But it wasn't like Seville cared. I'd say he's kind of an oblivious person...you know, for being sixteen years old.

I'm twelve. Did you expect better? Eh, sorry. You got me. My name is Valerie, by the way. Valerie Lovett.

* * *

><p>"Val!" Seville called, once again jolting me out of thought.<p>

"_What_ is it?" I snapped, apparent annoyance in my voice. I didn't like being interrupted from my reading.

"Come down here a sec."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, yes! You _must."_ He exclaimed in a playfully theatrical voice.

Unable to stop the silly grin that broke out across my face, I hurriedly swung my legs over the side of the bed and jumped up, leaving the opened up book on the mattress.

I opened the door and headed out into the hall, only walking a short distance until I reached the stairs. I peered down them, spotting Seville at the bottom. He was leaning against the front door with a bored expression on his face.

"Hey, Sev." I greeted casually, trotting down the stairs to hug him.

He returned the gesture. "What've you been up to?" He asked. "Getting lots of sun?"

I recoiled. "Heaven's no!"

He laughed. "I figured."

"Don't worry," I muttered. "I'll get plenty of sun when I'm forced to get a job."

"As will _I _when our little break is over." Seville agreed, winking at me pointedly.

My smile widened.

We were on summer break, and Mum and Dad were out of town, on their way to a friend's of a friend's funeral, offering support to those who were in mourning. I didn't really understand why they were going though; they hardly knew the people, except for one or two of them.

They had left Seville and I at home though, and I was actually sorta glad. I don't really like dead bodies...well, I suppose no one does, but still...there was just something so eerie about them.

But anyway, I was off from school (which, as you probably already guessed, is a big relief of stress for me), and so was Seville. Seville still had work though. He was a waiter at a restaurant down the street.

_But_, considering all the facts, which were: One, it was summer break, two, Mum and Dad weren't here, and three, Seville and I had a strange, much closer bond that most siblings usually didn't have, he would take off work days when he felt the need to spend more time with me. Not so many as to the point where he'd get fired. Just...every now and again.

He already got yelled at once...and we actually had a nice, long laugh about it.

"Say," Seville broke the short period of silence. "I have a taste for pizza. Wanna order some?"

"Sure." I replied absently, turning on my heel to head into the living room. I didn't bother telling him what I wanted on it; He already knew how I liked it.

* * *

><p>We were lounging on the couch, gorging ourselves with pizza (that had pretty much everything you could think of on it), and watching <em>The People Under The Stairs <em>on TV. Yeah, we were in the mood for horror. And though the movie wasn't horrifying, as we already knew from watching it before, it was actually pretty good and funny in parts, and it _did _have a really great ending.

By the time it was over, it was like 10:26, or something like that. The pizza wasn't completely done with though. We had waited a while for it, as the deliverer was late (Seville had to pull me back from lunging at him).

"Alright," Seville sighed. "I'm off to bed."

"Already?" I demanded.

He gave me an amused smile. "I've got work in the morning." At my blank expression, his own grew affectionate. "When you're older, you'll understand, Val."

"Lucky I'm not old yet." I smirked at him. "And neither are you, really."

"Glad you think so." He reached down to ruffle my hair, but I ducked out of the way with a scowl. My hair was simply too perfect for him to mess up.

"I'm being totally serious, Val. Honest." Seville insisted firmly. "One day, you just might regret not savoring the days where you got to rely on your parents for everything."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm relying on you right now. Not them." I pointed out.

Besides, what did he know? _He _still relied on Mum and Dad just as much as I did. If, by relying, he meant all the times he asked Mum to make him breakfast, then yeah, I rest my case.

Seville stood a little taller. "I s'pose you're right, heh."

I rose an eyebrow at him.

"Anyway," He shook his head. "Just...ponder on that. Okay?"

"Sure." I responded flatly, absentmindedly picking up the remote and flipping the TV off.

What was it about his words that were just suddenly getting to me? I definitely didn't feel like watching any more.

"I...I think I'll read." I mumbled, blankly following Seville up the stairs.

He took an odd look at me, and I forced an easy smirk.

"Night, Val." He yawned, closing his bedroom door gently.

"Night, Sev." I copied his actions, though I wasn't really tired at all.

I crossed my dark room and sat on the beanbag-like chair next to the window, gazing out over the lawn and into the dusky street. I _was _actually beginning to wonder when they'd be back. Dad had reassured me right before he and Mum left. He said, "We'll be back before you know it." Those were his exact words.

Well, I was starting to "know it", and I made a silent vow to let Dad know that as soon as he and Mum returned.

For now, however, I crawled back into bed and grabbed hold of the book I had previously been reading. Before Seville...grr...interrupted me.

It didn't seem like much longer after that when I put the book down and stuck a bookmark in to hold my place. I simply turned to lay on my side, facing the wall. I didn't even get to _try _to fall asleep, before I already did.

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><p><em><strong>Not much happened here, I know. But, you were introduced to the two main characters, Valerie and Seville. Characters from this time, who quite suspiciously have the last name "Lovett". Hmm...<strong>_

_**By the way, if you hadn't already guessed, Seville is pernounced "Sev-ill". (I totally got Valerie's nickname for him, "Sev" from Harry Potter X3)**_

_**Anyway, review and tell me if you think I should go on!**_

_**Oh, and think of it this way: Sweeney'll show up faster if you do. ;)**_

_**Edit; here's a picture of Valerie (I'll be coming up with protraits of the others soon enough): h t t p : / / i m a g e s h a c k . u s / f / 8 3 5 / 2 0 0 6 r e d c u r l s . j p g / - **__**Take out the spaces, of course!**_

_**And hey, in my own defense for her perhaps looking a tad too old to be twelve...she just looks mature for her age, following her personality. *Lame excuse***_

_**Another edit; here's a picture of Seville: h t t p : / / i m a g e s h a c k . u s / f / 1 9 3 / e o g h a n q u i g g 5 9 3 6 8 t . j p g / - Once again, take out the spaces.**_

_**Yes...Seville is a bit...tense. That'll be explained. ^^ And also why his skin is on the pale side in this picture, when I described it to be somewhat tanned in writing.**_


	2. The Little Song

_**Chapter 2**_

An odd scraping noise woke me.

...Scraping noise?

Wait! I wasn't lying in my bed.

_Where am I?_

I slowly came to kneel and looked around carefully. The room was terribly dark, but I could tell the floor was made of wood. Just as my knees were starting to hurt, I glanced up, immediately squinting against the moonlight and beamed down on me through a huge window. I was about to get up and look out, but the sound of foot steps made me freeze in place. A tall, dark figure, silhouetted against the searing light, stepped in front of the window. For some reason, I suddenly didn't feel safe.

Then a dark, broken, _angelic _voice rung out through the dead air,

_"Rest now, my friend."_

It was so beautiful, yet it somehow had a rage-filled, maddened shake to it, as though the owner of the voice was getting ready to have some sort of outburst or breakdown of some sort.

_"Rest now forever."_

A chill ran down my spine. The figure stuck its arm out, and I could see clearly: A gloved hand. It held up what looked like a silver straight razor that gleamed in the moon's light.

_"Sleep, now, the untroubled sleep of the angels..."_

_CREEAKK!_

No!

I tried taking a step back while still on my knees, but it only pressed down on a loose plank of wood.

The figure froze, then I could tell, without seeing any features, that it had whipped its head around to glare at me. Dark eyes met mine. I suddenly felt dizzy.

Before I could take another breath, I blacked out.

I woke with a start. For real this time.

I wanted to jump out of bed before I fell asleep again. I didn't want to go back to _that_, as intrigued as I was by it.

Hurriedly, I rushed out the door of my room and ran down the stairs. It was very early. Seville wasn't even up yet.

I let out a steady breath as I pushed the front door open and walked out onto the stairs that led up to the house to sit down, letting the gentle dawn breeze play with my hair. Morning and nighttime were my two favorite times of the day, because the sun wasn't intense in the morning, and of course, it wasn't even out at night. Plus, it was so quiet in the morning, like I could just fall asleep and...

No way.

I couldn't fall asleep again. Especially not here.

I brought my knees up to my chest and let my gaze travel down the block. Everything was so peaceful. So normal. But not boring. I'd have let things stay like this if I could've.

The sound of the front door opening from behind made me twist around. Seville was walking out to sit down beside me.

"I'm surprised." He remarked.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." I looked away.

"No, I mean, it was way hotter yesterday." He said.

"Was _I_ way hotter yesterday?" I asked good-humoredly.

Seville laughed. "Very funny."

I gave a lazy smile, then spoke without really thinking, "...I wonder when Mum and Dad are going to get back."

"Are you getting worried?" Seville asked, seriousness returning to his voice.

"No!" I snapped defensively. "I just..." My tone got softer as I went on. "...I'd like to talk to them again, Sev. That's all."

"Call them." Seville said simply.

"Eh, I think they partly took this trip to get away from us for a few days." I smirked. "Wouldn't want to bother them."

"Hmph, next thing we know, Mum's gonna be pregnant again." Seville grumbled, rolling his eyes.

I giggled. "Another brother or sister wouldn't be so bad."

Really, I knew it would've been. Seville and I were too close to let another sibling bud in. We hoped Mum and Dad knew that well enough by now.

"I guess not." Seville straightened a bit. "We'd be able to convert another innocent child."

"Mmm, I like the sound of that." I tilted my head up a bit in thought, a sly smile on my face.

We sat in silence again...

...until Seville broke it.

"Are you all right?"

"Um, sure." I glanced at him in confusion. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you _always_ fiddle around with your hair like that when you're thinking hard about something. You've done it for as long as you've had hair."

With a paranoid expression, I slowly lowered my hand which I didn't even remember raising in the first place. "I...didn't know I-"

"Hey, don't try to change the subject. What's up?"

"Nothing! Why must you pry?"

"I'm not prying!" Seville exclaimed indignantly. "What, Val, is it your time of month?"

I stared at him in confusion for a few heartbeats before realization came over me, and I rolled my eyes. "Pfft, no. But aren't you a barrel of laughs today..."

"As are you." He rested a hand on my leg. "You know, Mum and Dad will be back soon. Things'll all go back to normal then."

"I hope so."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Val."<p>

"What?"

"You wanna piss off Mr. Celefer again?"

I massaged my temple wearily. "Seville, the last thing we need is for yet _another _cop to come to the door."

We were sitting in the living room, watching TV again. It was nearing the evening, and Seville had already gotten home from work. I read practically all day.

"Come on, Val! Here, I'll start." He leaned over to grab my mp3 player off the small side table and plug it into a small speaker that he had propped there.

I _knew _he placed it there for a reason.

Before I could get up and stop it, a familiar, gentle tune began,

_"I've got a feelin', that tonight's gonna be a good night."_

Seville gradually turned it up, and I hardly noticed.

_"That tonight's gonna be a good night." _I sang along softly, unable to help myself.

Seville grinned.

_"That tonight's gonna be a good, good night!" _We sang together after exchanging a brief glance.

"Damn right it is!" He held up a hand.

We high-fived.

The evening went on with us singing random songs (and funnier when it was ones Seville hated, because it _was_ my mp3 player). It was something that we usually didn't do while Mum and Dad were home.

"Aww, Val!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"There's no Justin Bieber on your mp3 player! Why didn't you tell me? I would've left hours ago!"

I looked up at Seville with a bewildered glare, until I saw the teasing smirk on his face.

"Oh," I leaned back into the couch. "Right. You're hilarious today. I forgot."

"Hey," He came to sit down beside me. "do I need to start prying again?"

"No, no," I shook my head vigorously. "that wont be necessary, brother."

I closed my eyes, thinking. What was that little, eerie song I heard in my dream?

_Rest now, my friend._

Yeah, yeah, that was it...

Then it went something like,

_"Rest now, forever." _I sung it aloud this time, nothing more than a mere mumble, but it caught Seville's attention.

"What did you say?" He questioned me.

"Huh?" I glanced up at him. "Oh," I shook my head. "just some creepy dream I had last night. I heard this song."

"And you _remembered_ it?" He looked shocked.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I think the last bit was like..._"Sleep, now, the untroubled sleep of the angels..."_"

Seville stared at me, and I could spot genuine concern in his eyes. "W-what does the song mean?"

"Oh, I have no idea." I shrugged. "I often dream about things that don't make sense."

"Yeah, but...to hear a song in a dream and distinctly remember the lyrics. That's weird, Val." He stretched and let out a loud yawn before going on. "Do you remember any more?"

"No, that's it." I replied. "I'm not sure whether or not he was going to continue, because I-"

"He?" Seville looked alarmed. "Who's he?"

"The man." I replied. "There was this man in the dream too. He stepped in front of this window. I mean, I was in a dark room. The moon was shining in and everything, and then I heard singing. I mean...I think _he _was singing." I wasn't sure whatever I just said made sense. I was getting sorta sleepy.

"He was holding this silver straight razor, too. Weirdness, I tell you." I grinned up at him sheepishly, but, to my surprise, his expression was shockingly serious.

"...What, Sev?"

He was starting to weird _me _out a bit.

"Erm, n-nothing..." Seville looked away.

I stared right back at him, utterly confused now. "...Seville, what's the-"

The door bell ringing cut off my words.

Seville hurriedly got up and crossed the room in quick strides. I listened as he opened the door.

"Who is-"

"Ah, Seville? _You _again? I knew this house looked familiar!"

"Officer," Seville's voice was strangely mild. "why are _you_ here?"

"Mr. Celefer called again." The officer at the door explained. "Said you're way too loud in here."

I got up from where I sat and ran for the door, skidding to a halt to stand beside Seville. "He's _always _trying to get us in trouble!"

I knew it was childish. Complaining to a cop. But Mr. Celefer was our neighbor, and he always called the cops on us for talking in supposedly heightened tones, or playing music too loudly. Music that he described as annoying, by the way (but god damn him! When he bashes _Linkin Park_, he bashes us all!) Besides, I think I knew this officer. Maybe he could put old Celefer in his place.

He wore a uniform, of course, and had short blonde hair under his hat. He looked familiar.

"Well, seeing as it's past midnight, I'll just tell you two trouble-makers to keep it down a bit. People are trying to sleep, you know." He looked over Seville's shoulder to peer into the house. "Haven't your parents sent you to bed already?"

"They aren't here." I said quickly.

"What do you mean?"

"They're out of town." Seville explained. "Wont be back for two or three more days, at least."

"Hmm..." The man straightened a bit. "...as you're of age to be home alone, Seville, I expect you to look after Valerie. Yourself, as well, if you can manage."

"Oh, sometimes it's the other way around." I joked, punching Seville in the shoulder.

He scowled, though I could see he was trying not to smile.

"Well, I do hope to see them around here again. I've seem them before. You've got nice people for parents, kids."

"Thanks." Seville smiled weakly.

"Yeah," I spoke up. "and-and I bet your parents are just as great, sir!"

He turned his stern look on me before muttering lowly, "They're dead."

"Oh," I felt immediate heat rising into my cheeks. "er...I'm really sorry."

"No matter." He shook his head. "Have a good night, kids. Try to get some sleep." He tipped his hat to us, rather curtly, if I noted details, before parting. He turned on his heel and walked down the driveway until he reached his car.

Seville turned after slamming the door.

"Well," I exclaimed. "_he _was a crisp wonder, wasn't he?"

Seville ignored me. "_Smooth_, Val." He grinned and walked back into the other room.

Relieved that he seemed back to normal, I followed him in. "Okay, I'm not trying to be modest here, but really, that's not funny."

"Eh, I guess not." Seville sat back down. "Your mistake was funny. But no, people dying certainly isn't."

"Yeah, Sev," I crossed my arms. "it's not. Where are you going with this?"

Flinching at my irritated voice, Seville sighed. "Nothing, nothing. I agree with you."

"Good," I sat down beside him and lifted my arm to rest it over his shoulders. "that's all I needed to hear."

Seville smirked. "...We should get some sleep, Val."

"Why? You haven't got any work tomorrow."

"Oh, I was wondering if you wanted to eat out for breakfast." It just seemed to dawn on him.

"Er, sure, Sev." I shrugged. "We'll be going..._early_, right?"

Seville laughed. "Of course, Val." He stood up, shaking my arm off him as he went. He came to the base of the stairs, then looked over his shoulder at me. "Come up when you're ready. I'm not forcing you."

I watched him boredly as he vanished onto the second floor, and I was left alone again.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Demolition . Lover . 14 - Thanks! I'm so glad you liked the first chapter. And yes...Sweeney's reaction will be...pretty memorable.<em>**

_**TheBrightsider - Heh, it's funny you should say that. I was just eating warm pizza as I was reading your review. XD Thanks a lot. I'll have the next one up soon.**_


	3. Just The Beginning?

**_Chapter 3_**

I woke the next day, relieved that no bad dreams had plagued my sleep this time. Dawn light made its way into the room. I yawned and raised my arms over my head in a long stretch. Then I got up and opened the door, heading for the stairs.

As soon as he saw me, Seville smiled. "Morning."

"Mornin'." I muttered groggily.

I staggered into the middle of the living room and stood there, Seville staring at me pointedly the whole time.

Soon, it came down to reminders.

"Get dressed."

"Huh?" I looked up.

"We're leaving. Get dressed."

"Oh," I rubbed sleep from my eyes. "right. I forgot."

"Why?"

"I was reading late last night." I replied flatly, already making my way back up the stairs to get ready.

* * *

><p>We walked to a diner that was rather close to the restaurant that Seville worked at. I suppose this was his idea of "eating out". But then again, what we got there was much better than anything we could've made ourselves at home.<p>

I gulped my glass of orange juice thirstily as we waited at our table to be served.

"Jeez, Val," Seville chuckled. "you're gonna need a refill before the food even gets here."

"I didn't drink much yesterday." I explained breathlessly, having forgotten to breathe in between gulps.

"Still, don't choke." He leaned back in his chair, keeping his eyes watchfully pinned on me.

I continued drinking, keeping Seville in the corners of my eyes.

Why was he staring at me like that?

He acted as though there was something wrong with me.

There wasn't.

Was there?

I was so lost in thought because of him, I didn't even realize that the waiter had just spoken to me. The feeling of a plate sliding in between my arms jerked me from ponder.

"Here you are, ma'am."

I looked up at the young man with a sheepish smile. "Thanks."

Seville face-palmed. "Yes, yes, she wants a refill."

"Oh, very well." He picked up the glass and carried it off back to the counter.

"Sorry." I muttered lowly to Seville.

"What's wrong?"

I shot him a warning glare at that question, but just as I was getting ready to tell him off again, the smell of maple syrup made me look down.

"I ordered waffles?"

"You said you wanted them." Seville stared at me oddly.

"Oh," I rested my forehead into my palm. "Right. I forgot."

"You've been saying that a lot lately, Val." Seville remarked, grabbing his fork and digging into the pancakes that he had ordered for himself.

I let out a tiny groan, rubbing my eyes again. Then I started on the waffles that I apparently ordered (I wasn't going to tell Seville that I _still_ didn't remember ordering them). They _did _look good, after all, and

I was pretty hungry.

As much as the food brought me back to consciousness, I hardly looked up when the waiter returned the glass with a fresh pouring of juice. Seville had to tap my arm a few times to get my attention.

"Oh, thank you," I looked up at the young man with a pleasant smile. "your services have had no flaws, sir."

Yeah...I tended to add on words that I didn't really need an awful lot.

The waiter casted me an odd stare, then turned away to head over to another table.

Seville shook his head ruefully. "What's going on with you, Val?"

"Alright, alright, fine...I'll admit, I haven't really been feeling my best." I confessed. "Not in a sick sort of way, though. I've just been feeling...I don't know - weird."

"Do you..." Seville hesitated briefly before going on. "...do you think it has something to do with that dream you had?"

"The one with the creepy song and the straight razor?"

"...Yeah."

"Uh...I don't know. Why would it have to do with that?"

"No reason." Seville replied a little _too _quickly. He nearly snapped the words out.

I stared at him suspiciously, my eyes narrowed.

Puh! Am _I_ okay? I was starting to worry about him a bit!

* * *

><p>We were walking home, and even though we stayed at the diner later than we had planned, it was still pretty light out. The sun was starting to kick in. I wanted to get inside.<p>

"Say, Sev," I spoke up without thinking better of it, and as much as I had a feeling I'd regret it, I went on. "are _you _feeling okay?"

This caught my brother off-guard. He was back to normal since I hadn't been mentioning the dream. How strange...

"Why would you ask that?" He answered my question with a question (I _hate _when people do that! Almost as much as I hate when they ignore me completely.).

"You've just been giving me funny looks lately." I replied calmly, hiding my annoyance. "I mean, ever since I first mentioned the-"

"The whole idea was just..._weird_, Val. Okay?" Seville stopped to glare at me, and my legs suddenly ceased to work as well.

"I'm not crazy." I murmured, steadily glaring up at him. I had meant to raise my voice...but for some reason, I just couldn't bring myself to.

Seville froze.

My heart skipped a beat.

"What?"

He gazed down at me, and I could have sworn I saw thoughtfulness playing in his eyes. Then his expression softened, and he rested a hand on my shoulder. "I know you're not crazy, Val."

I breathed a sigh of relief, but still felt anger bubbling in me again. He scared me just then!

Why did he stiffen so abruptly like that? One would think he'd've been petrified!

Taking an uneasy glance backwards, so's to make sure there was no basilisk slithering after us, I broke into a shaky walk again. Seville didn't say another word after that, and he did the same. He wasn't keeping anything from me, surely? We never kept secrets from one another.

Was this, perhaps, just the beginning?

* * *

><p><strong><em>*Ducks* I totally slacked off on this chapter. I was having writer's block (and way too soon).<em>**

**_So yeah, not much happens again. But don't worry. Things are going to start picking up in the next chapter._**

**_Oh, and in reply to reviews,_**

**_Demolition . Lover . 14 - My brother and I do the exact same thing. :D We're currently more in Sweeney Todd mode though. We're memorizing "A Little Priest" right now, so we can eventually reenact it. Good fun. So I guess I'll say that I do take my life as reference for this story at some points. _****_Oh, and also, not to spoil any ideas for a more complex plot, but what Valerie meant by "familiar" when referring to the cop was that: She and Seville see many cops, whenever their neighbor calls the police on them. She just remembers this one in particular as one she's seen before. Lol. Thanks for reviewing!_**

**_Thank you to TheBrightsider and Bellatrix Nellie Le-Lovett, also! _**

**_I'm hoping to get the next one up soon, as well. I just hope this writer's block goes away. _**


	4. Regret

_**Chapter 4**_

It was Monday. Seville went to work, leaving me home alone to watch out for Mum and Dad's car to pull up in the driveway. We guessed they'd be almost home by now, at least. They might've gone far, but what they had to do once they arrived at their destination didn't take long at all.

Well, we didn't think so, anyway...

Now, I was sat on the outdoor front porch, listening to the birds chirping and waiting for the sound of a car rumbling to disturb them. No different sound broke their song, except for perhaps cars that weren't Mum and Dad's . I didn't get worried though. I mean, they didn't give us an exact day for when they'd be back. It could be any day this week. And yeah, we estimated some time this week.

It'd only be normal. Right?

Normal. Heh. Such a funny word...

Well, every false alarm made my heart sink further, until I could've sworn I could feel it beating in my stomach. It was getting dark out. No big deal, right?

"They'll be back." I kept telling myself.

As much as it sometimes seemed like Mum and Dad never listened to me (while Seville did), I still cared about them. I had a bad feeling that it wouldn't be long until I started regretting all the things I said to Mum just before she was going to tell me about leaving.

* * *

><p><em>A week before...<em>

I slammed the front door, storming into the house. Mum was standing at the counter in the kitchen, and when I approached, she turned fully to face me. I could hear Seville just coming in, cursing under his breath about me not holding the door open for him.

"What's wrong, Valerie?" Mum asked.

"I'm never going back there. Ever." I replied stonily, pulling out the chair at the table and sitting, my eyes glaring at nothing.

Mum sighed. "What happened this time?" She sat in the opposite chair.

"Dakota." I muttered, lifting my arm and pulling back the sleeve to reveal a _huge_ bruise.

Mum gasped.

"She did it." I supplied, my voice sullen and weary.

I didn't cry like the first time, though. I was too used to it now.

Before Mum could say anything, Seville hurriedly came in to sit in another chair beside us both. "I-I would've done something, Mum," He stuttered lamely. "I-I just know you told me to-to never hit girls...and I..." His voice trailed off.

"Well, I certainly couldn't," I said bitterly, rubbing the bruise gently. "She nailed my swinging arm."

"Valerie," Mum said sternly, resting her hand against my arm. "we're going to the principal as soon as you-"

"The _principal_, Mum?" I exclaimed incredulously. "We did that at the beginning of the year! Dakota still beat me up! It's like Mrs. Marelle _encourages _it!"

"You know that's not true." Mum murmured.

"Well, that's sure what it seems like!" I snapped.

"Valerie's right, Mum." Seville agreed. "Mrs. Marelle does nothing. Sometimes I even see her standing off to the side of the playground as I pass her school. She stands there and watches kids get pounded on. She's _evil_. She's-"

"Seville Lovett, that's enough." Mum chided sharply, glaring at him.

"It's not just me." I suddenly felt defensive of my brother. "Do you realize how many of the guys on the street bully Seville for having the word "love" in his name? They say it's gay." I turned to Seville and smirked. "So when they put the nasty moves on me, I just tell them I'm a lesbian."

Seville laughed, as did I. We could sure lighten the mood...

But it was true. Even though I was only twelve years old, guys seem to be maturing way faster than I. And _god_, was it annoying!

Mum shook her head. "We're still going to the principal."

"But Mum-" My smile vanished immediately.

"_End of story_, Valerie." Mum said firmly, standing back up.

I stood up as well, facing her with my fists clenched. "You never listen!"

"You're luckier than you may think." She remarked, staring straight back at me now.

"Why?" I sneered.

"Because, it's the beginning of summer break." She looked mildly surprised.

My arms dropped to my sides. I had completely forgotten.

Seville grinned and stood up beside me, clasping his hand over my shoulder.

"_And_," Mum continued before I could say anything. "your father and I need to leave."

"Leave?" I looked up, startled.

"Do you remember Lisa?" Mum prompted.

I nodded. Lisa was this old friend of Mum's. Mum had invited her over for dinner this one night. She was nice, I guess.

"Her brother's friend Mark just passed away." Mum's words immediately went from stern to glum. "Your father and I are going to his wake and funeral. We're leaving you two here, and we're expecting you to be on your best behaviour."

I tried hard to restrain my smile. Seville and I, home alone, on summer break? The house was doomed, but besides that, _awesome_!

"Don't look too happy," Mum said irritably. "we're still going to speak with Mrs. Marelle at the beginning of the next school year."

My glare returned. "No way! Is it all about me being _un_happy now?"

"_Yes_, way." Mum shot back. "And of course not, Valerie. You know I only want what's best for you."

"Yeah, right." I turned away, heading for the threshold to leave. "When you're ready to act like a mother who _cares_, I'll be in my room!" I ran for the stairs.

I locked myself in my room and didn't come out at all that night, only letting in Seville who brought me a plate of food from behind Mum and Dad's backs. Apparently, I lost the privilage of eating that night too.

I got up early the next day and put the plate in the sink before running back up and laying on my bed again to read. I don't think Mum knew. Or she just didn't care.

That wouldn't be surprising...

* * *

><p>Now, sitting on the stairs of the front porch, I felt guiltier than ever. Why the hell had I said those things to her? I felt as though she deserved every insult I threw her way, but at the same time, I felt so horrible about it. Why hadn't this hit me days ago?<p>

"Hey, Val." Seville's voice startled me.

I looked up to see him walking down the sidewalk towards the house. He crossed the driveway and made his way up the stairs to sit beside me.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Sev." I rubbed my forehead at a sudden pain that went through it.

Oh yeah, I'm able to give myself headaches. Not a very good thing to have. I hated it.

"I'm just thinking about what I said to Mum when we came home from school at the end of the year." I murmured. "I..I'm not too crazy about myself right now."

"Oh, Val," He shook his head. "You know Mum still loves you."

"She didn't act like it then." I pointed out, confusion taking over me.

"So wait," He paused. "are you mad at yourself, or at her?"

I shoved him, though I knew I'd have no answer.

Seville didn't care though, and understanding flashed in his eyes for a brief moment.

I felt a surge of affection for him. It had been that night that the two of us sat in my room, in total silence, and Seville held an ice pack to my bruise. He sat there and held it for at least an hour.

Sometimes I never acknowledged the fact that he was one of the most dedicated brothers one could have. I was lucky to have him there for me, of all people.

"In any case," Seville went on, rolling his eyes all the while. "don't hate yourself." He got back up to his full height and headed for the door. "We'd best get inside. They're obviously not coming home tonight."

I nodded and silently followed him back into the house.

I decided to take a shower, to help calm down a bit. Because I certainly wasn't going to let Seville onto the fact that I was actually beginning to worry a bit.

I knew it was silly. It really was. But I had such a bad feeling all of a sudden...

I felt sorta weird as I went into the bathroom after getting some clean clothes to put on. Throughout the time I let the hot water wash over me, I kept having an odd need to place my hand on my head. It didn't hurt. It just felt strange. It was kind of a familiar feeling. I remembered feeling this way that _one_ time, just before I...

_Oh no._

I hurriedly rinsed out the conditioner from my hair, then turned the water off and pulled the shower curtain aside to get out. There was no way, no way in _hell_, I was going to let this happen again.

I fleetingly slipped into clean pajamas and made for the door, trying to fight it. But my head felt as though it were weighing me down, and my vision grew dark. I managed to yank the door open, but immediately after, my legs gave out from under me. I fell to the floor.

The last thing I remembered hearing was Seville's cry of alarm.

* * *

><p><strong><em>We all know cliff-hangers are only funny when you're the one making them. If anyone else besides yourself is doing it, it just sucks. X3 Don't worry, you wont be waiting long (for those who care, anyway.) <em>**

**_Yeah, I know I got no reviews on the last chapter. I decided to just go on and upload this next one, because nothing much happened in the last chapter, except for some more nervous, obvious signs of "I-know-something-you-don't-know-but-I'm-keeping-it-from-you-so-things-will-stay-interesting" from Seville. _**

**_So, this is really where things start getting a bit more exciting. And Sweeney will be making an appearance pretty soon. Gotta be excited about that, right?_**

**_Please do review!_**


	5. Meet My Visions

**_Chapter 5_**

"_Come for a shave, have you, lad?"  
>"N-no."<br>"Everyone needs a good shave."_

I woke, my heart pounding. I could tell I was in my bed.

But what happened again?

"Val?"

I jumped.

Seville was sitting beside my bed, on the floor. My large intake of breath probably alerted him.

"What happened?" He asked, concern in his hazel eyes.

"I think you'd be able to tell _me _more about that." I muttered. "You saw me fall."

"Ah, so you remember falling..." He observed.

"Yeah, Sev." I looked away, glaring. "I do."

"...Why did you fall?" Seville questioned.

I could hear worry in his voice.

"I just did. I felt weird." I explained.

"In what way?"

"My head suddenly felt so heavy, and my vision went black." I replied quickly.

Right when I was questioning what had happened, it all came back to me.

"Like that one time-"

"At school," I finished for him, my voice dry. "yes, Seville."

It happened before. In school. It was...it was embarrassing. There was no other word for it. Dakota, one of the meanest girls in school, gave me hell for it. This included giving me a new bruise.

"Why would that happen now?" Seville wondered aloud.

"I have no idea." I ran my hand through my hair, massaging my aching head again.

"Um..." Seville looked around hesitantly for a few heartbeats, then muttered lowly. "You know it's...er...it's 6:30, on Tuesday."

"No it's not." I looked up at him in surprise. "It's Monday."

"You slept through the night, and half of today." He explained delicately.

That made me bolt upright (I _was _full of energy, after all). "_What? _And you didn't wake me up?"

"You were out cold, Val." He told me. "There _was_ no waking you." He reached forward with an outstretched arm to touch my forehead. "And meanwhile, you've got a huge bump on your head. I'm surprised."

"Surprised?" I rose an eyebrow at him.

"That you didn't lose any memory in there!" He said harshly.

I snorted. "Since when were you a doctor?"

"Since I had enough logic to put an ice pack on that thing." He retorted.

"An ice pack," I grumbled. "that's your solution for everything."

"Well, I'm sorry." Seville looked away, and I could see faint hurt gleam in his eyes for a moment.

I felt immediate guilt prick at my heart. Why do I jump so quickly to the occasion of biting someone's head off? I'll never understand.

"Hey," I swung my legs over the side of my bed and placed a hand on his shoulder. "at least I'm clean, huh?"

He blinked at me for a heartbeat or two, and then a smile broke out across his face. "Of course."

I smiled back at him. "Come on, Sev. Let's eat."

"I will _bring _you dinner." Seville told me sternly.

"What?" I glared at him as he stood back up to his full height.

"Read, like you're always yelling at me for interrupting you from." He took my book from the side table and practically tossed it my way.

Pfft, and he doesn't want me to stress over anything!

Seville smirked at my frantic attempts to catch it, and headed for the door. "Spaghetti. Sound good?"

"Yeah, seeing as it's the most advanced dish you can conjure up, I'd love some." I said in a plainly unenthusiastic voice.

Seville gave and small nod and left without another word.

Ugh...

...I just bit off another remaining bit of his head, didn't I?

...Yummy...

* * *

><p>"<em>Why did you scream?"<br>_

_"Um-um-" I fumbled for an answer without even knowing why._

_I couldn't see him. I just knew he was angry._

_Before I knew it, his cold hand was gripping my shoulder in a painfully tight grasp. Just as I was coming to cry out in agony, he released me, sending me tripping across the length of the floor._

"_Open the door. _Now_."_

_I cowered, getting ready to do as I was told, but was stopped._

_I turned to face..._

_Seville?_

"God, Val, it's only pasta. Calm down."

I was shaken.

What was that?

Some sort of weird vision thing?

"Aren't you hungry?" Seville pushed a tray at me, and I lowered myself onto my back again and took it, just now realizing how fierce my stomach was growling.

"Yeah, I am." I mumbled, my voice quiet and meek.

That scared the hell out of me!

Why was he so mad at me? What did I do?

Wait...since when did I meet someone with _that_ voice?

It sounded awfully familiar...

"You sure you're feeling all right?" Seville checked for the millionth time.

I shot him a scathing look. "Yes, Seville. I'm sure."

He continued to stare at me oddly though. Then the next thing he said was almost inaudible, "...What did you see this time?"

"What?" I looked up from the fork I was just getting ready to plunge and twist into my food.

"Whenever you faint like that, you always see things. Remember?"

"Oh," I sighed wearily. "I don't know...erm...I think I heard something about a shave, and someone ordering me to open a door. Who knows...?" My grip on my fork tightened, and I twisted some spaghetti around the teeth before lifting it to my mouth. What Seville said next nearly made me drop it though.

"Did you see the man again?"

I breathed out, my hand starting to tremble.

Seville definitely knew something that I didn't.

"No," I replied after a moment, my voice shaky. "I...I heard him though."

"Was he singing again?" My brother pressed.

"No. He was talking." I responded, quickly shoving the fork into my mouth in hopes that he wouldn't ask anymore questions.

My mouth was burnt by the heat, but I honestly didn't care right now.

For the first time ever, old Sev was starting to scare me.

Seville only nodded this time, however. "Okay." He backed off, nodding to me with a strangely distant look in his eyes, before leaving, vanishing out the door.

I had no choice but to sit and eat in silence now.

The night went on with no strange happenings to follow the previous ones. I was relieved. Now, all we needed to do was wait for Mum and Dad to come home. Things would be all better then...

I had no idea that, the very next day, things would start changing for the worst.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Another short chapter. They'll be getting longer, don't worry.<em>**

**_Thanks to xJill Lovett for reviewing!_**


	6. Totally Suspicious and Sudden

**_Chapter 6_**

I woke to the sound of glass breaking, and the muffled scream that sounded an awful lot like, "Shit!"

I jumped out of bed and ran out, spotting Seville halfway down the stairs. He was standing in the hall leading into the kitchen, staring down at a few shards of glass on the floor with a cross expression on his face.

"What happened?" I asked, approaching cautiously.

He looked up, startled. "I...er..let's just say I broke a possession of Mum's."

I knelt down and picked up a piece of glass, careful not to cut myself. "...It was the vase, wasn't it?" I murmured, shaking my head ruefully. "You just ruined three months of to-be freedom, Sev."

"Sorry." He gritted his teeth.

"Ah, no harm done." I came back up to stand beside him, patting his back. "I bet Mum _expected_ us to break something."

"So that's why she left the vase out?" Seville demanded.

"Vases," I snorted with amusement. "So stereotypical. Maybe that's why."

"I doubt it." He remarked.

I punched his arm immediately after he said that. "What do _you_ know? You just broke something."

Seville snorted and turned his back on me after running his hand over the small table against the wall in which the vase had fallen off of. "Well, at least Dad's table is okay. I almost thought-"

"Ow! Crap!" I cried out in pain as I stepped on a small shard of glass, jumping into the table and knocking it over

Almost as if on cue.

"No!" Seville yelped, grabbing hold of it before it could crash to the floor.

I regained my balance, then lifted my leg up to look at the bottom of my foot. It was just a small cut, but it still hurt pretty badly. I _knew _I should've put my socks on before leaving my room...not that it would help much to a drastic extent.

"Need help?" Seville asked.

"No, no..." I stammered. "...I'll-I'll pull it out."

I hated when skin broke. It was awful. Worse than skin peeling.

Seville knew how much I hated it, and he took a careful step forward. "You sure? I can-"

"No. It's fine, Sev." I snapped, struggling to keep my voice from shaking.

Grabbing onto the wall, I hopped on my left foot while favoring the right one - the one that got cut - as I made my way to the bathroom.

I brushed past the half-opened door and hopped in. Sitting down on the edge of the bath tub, I rested my right leg over my left one and viewed the cut again.

Ugh...

With a trembling hand, I grabbed the edge of the shard that stuck out of the wound and gently yanked it. I gritted my teeth as I felt more blood trickle down from it. That was just the irritation, too!

Nope. Pain came right after.

* * *

><p>Walking around with a band-aid stuck to the bottom of your foot is easier said than done. Like right now, as I'm easily saying it...it's not easy, friends. It was rather time-consuming to walk without struggling over the hurt foot, as I made for the front door. Seville was already out there; We were going to sit and wait for Mum and Dad again.<p>

I pulled the door open and stepped out onto the porch. Seville was leaning against the wall of the house, just inches from the door. That was why I apologized for almost hitting him with it.

We stood next to each other in silence until I finally pulled up a flimsy chair and sat down, letting the gentle dusk breeze play with my curly red hair again.

"How far away do you suppose they are now?" I murmured to my brother.

"They can't be _that _far away. They're obviously on their way home." Seville said in a reassuring voice that made my fists clench.

"I'm not worried, if that's what you think." I spoke clearly now, heightening my tone.

"Yes, yes, I know, Val." Seville rolled his eyes.

I started to play with a small rip in my jeans as I went on. "It's just...I'm anxious to tell Mum I'm sorry. That's all."

"We could go on for hours, thinking about all the things we could be apologizing to her for." Seville pointed out.

"I know, but this was a big one." I insisted. "It was plainly an "I hate you" in my language. I wanted her to know so. But I don't anymore."

"Ah, Val," Seville rested a hand on my shoulder, but before he could say anything else, a police car drove past, stopping a few feet away from being directly in front of the house.

The same officer from before got out to stare at us oddly. I tilted my head in response, while Seville narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

After standing there for a few more moments, the officer came to finally approach us.

"You two still alone?"

"Yes," I replied firmly, cutting off whatever Seville was about to say again. "Did you drive down here just to check on us?"

_What a creep of the law._

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did."

I crossed my arms over my chest and rose to my feet to approach him. "We aren't..._that _young."

Seville came to my side. "That's right. We can look after ourselves without your supervision."

The officer was silent again, but when he finally spoke up, his voice was strangely soft. "For how long, do you propose, will you be able to look after yourselves?"

I was getting ready to ask what he meant by that, but Seville spoke first for once, his voice full of scorn, "For as long as we must."

I nodded vigorously.

The strange cop was standing directly in front of us now, his expression frighteningly solemn. "I'd start packing my things, if I were you."

"Why?" I snorted.

"Because children of your age are not aloud to live alone without adults."

Seville stared at him as if he'd gone mad. "Didn't you hear me before? They're _coming back. _They're probably just a bit late, more so than they expected."

"And we'll do our best to find them, son." The officer placed a hand on Seville's shoulder, but he flinched away.

"You're making it sound like they're lost!"

"They might be."

My eyes stretched wide. "Don't say that! What kind of cop _are_ you?"

"Yeah!" Seville snapped. "...And don't call me "son". Only Dad can do that."

"Tell me," He completely ignored our insults. "do you have any relatives that you can stay with?"

Seville froze.

I gazed up at him with confusion.

"...Y-yes." My brother seemed to have to force the word out.

"Who, then?"

"Our grandmother." Seville replied steadily, staring the police officer straight in the eye.

I stiffened. We were very close to our grandmother, our father's mother. But Mum and Dad never took us over there since our last visit, which was _years _and _years_ ago. Seville was only eight years old at the time, and I was four. She lived on Fleet Street. A...a strange little street. She lived in this old pie shop, or so she said. It was really dusty, from what I remember. She was such a nice, old lady for living in such a spooky house.

We slept over there that one time. I remember hearing these creepy footsteps coming from the ceiling, like someone was pacing in the room above. I got so scared. Grandma comforted me, telling me it was only rats...

Hey, I was four - I'd believe anything.

But now, as I'm older, I realize that those footsteps were way too heavy and paced to be caused by such small creatures like rats...

Grandma informed me that a barber used to live in the room above the old pie shop, but she never told me anymore than that, even when I'd ask particular questions about it. It was almost as though she didn't _want_ to talk about it for a personal reason...

Seville's voice startled me from my thoughts, "...still, you can't just act like our parents are dead! They pay you to transport supposedly helpless kids from their homes, don't they? Well I wont-"

"Just listen, boy," The officer snapped. "you don't think I was listening to you? I damn right was. That is why I'm telling you to get your precious stuff together so I can take you to your grandmother's tomorrow. There is no reason to fight this."

"What if we don't want to go?" I challenged.

He stared down at me hard. "I'll go along with the notion that no one here wishes to obey the law."

I ducked my head, still wearing a hard glare that was somewhat false. I wouldn't mind seeing Grandma again, to be completely honest...

"Will you take us home as soon as you find out you're _wrong_?" Seville sneered.

With an annoyed clear of his throat, the officer nodded. "Yes. I promise."

I perked up a bit and turned to Seville once the cop left us standing there alone again. "We get to see Grandma again, at least."

Seville's eyes were pinned on nothing though. He turned to face with with anger still lit in his eyes. "I can't believe him. He's acting like Mum and Dad are dead."

I frowned. "I'm sure they'll be back, Sev. Then we can rub it in his face that he was wrong about them."

"I guess." He turned back to the house. "Still, what do we bring?" His eyes widened. "Oh, and we need to call Grandma to let her know we're coming!"

"Calm down." I patted his back. "I wouldn't be surprised if Mum and Dad were playing some sort of trick on us. This is all a game. Let's treat it like one."

I trotted forward, and Seville came to my side.

For once, he was worrying more than I was. I didn't exactly blame him all that much though. This was all very much suspicious and sudden...

"Just a little game..." I kept telling myself.

Ooh...no words could describe how much I regretted saying _that..._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Jeez, how rude! I'd be pretty pissed if a cop came to my house to tell me I needed to leave as well. Hmm...could this possibly be where the epicness (I hope ;D) of the story begins?<em>**

**_Oh, and by the way, I've added on a picture of Valerie to the first chapter. Have a look at that, if you want. _**

**_And review, of course! _**


	7. Off To Fleet Street

**_Chapter 7_**

"Seville, why are you bringing knives? Grandma probably has some."

"Just...thinking ahead, is all."

I narrowed my eyes at the nervous way in which he said that.

"Thinking ahead?" I repeated. "We're coming back, Sev. Just like Mum and Dad are. Did you forget?"

"No." He looked up from the bag on the kitchen counter in which he was throwing most of his stuff into. "But if something is to happen to _us_, this might not be a fun little game anymore. The way you currently see things."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, Sev. I think you're starting to worry more than I usually do. But I know better than to listen to a bossy police officer who wont even give us the straight out proof for why we need to leave this house on such short notice."

Seville sighed. "Maybe he wants us to leave the house so we don't bother Mr. Celefer again."

"Pfft, sure, Sev. That's likely." I threw in the last of my books into a bag of my own as I sat at the kitchen table. "Do you really think they'd kick us out for that?"

"Whether we did something wrong or not," Seville grabbed the handle of his bag and plopped it onto the table, next to mine. "Mum and Dad are gonna be pissed."

I frowned at the very thought. We'd surely get grounded, added onto those months for breaking Mum's vase and most likely scratching Dad's table (and now that I think about it, one of the table's legs felt a bit wobbly, or maybe I'm just being paranoid).

Nonetheless, it was morning. Seville and I were...getting ready to leave, we supposed. We kept cracking the joke that Mum and Dad would pull up in the driveway any minute, but...so far, that hadn't happened.

We called Grandma the night before, and though she sounded a bit odd in tone, she said that we could come over, and she didn't care how long we'd have to stay. I was glad. She _is _a pleasure to be around, and she always did make me feel pretty good about myself. Maybe she would be the one to put my mind at ease.

So we waited at the front door, Seville as quiet as a mouse, while I...I hummed. I hummed that little tune again. The one about addressing friends. The eerie one. It simply came to my mind, out of the blue.

Why were we doing this?

The question sorta came out of nowhere as well.

But yeah...why?

It wasn't like we really had to. Right?

Who did this cop think he was - telling us off and kicking us from our house while our parents weren't home?

Load of bull.

But still, I wanted to see Grandma again. Perhaps now that I was older, she'd be forced to tell me the truth about the pacing noise up in the supposed old barbershop.

"Val, you ready?"

I looked up. "Huh?"

Seville brushed back the curtains on the window just next to the door, and pointed out. I peered through the glass and spotted a police car. I must've been too deep in thought to realize.

"Oh, yeah." I shook my head and opened the door, making sure to wear a confident expression. Seville did the same as he followed me out.

"I'm surprised you're on time."

To my equal surprise, it was a different officer this time.

He was leaner than the one from yesterday, and I guessed he was probably needed for fast running. He had short light brown hair, and chocolate brown eyes to just nearly match. He also looked way more laid back, and he wore a polite smile.

I narrowed my eyes at him as I slowly opened the door of the car and got in. Seville followed.

"The guy from yesterday didn't give us a time to be out here." I told the new officer with a rather rude tone of voice that suggested my irritation.

His smile then turned into an apologetic one of sorts, startling me. "Of course. Officer Rhenny can be a bit shady sometimes, and especially lately. His mother just died about a month ago. Poor guy's been asking me to repeat orders to the rest of the force because he can't get his own words out loud enough."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that." Seville was staring out the window with a somewhat annoyed expression on his face.

I copied.

"Oh," He shook his head. "right. You need to get to your grandmother's house. What's the address?"

Seville paused, then gave a small intake of breath before going on, "186 Fleet Street."

The atmosphere in the car suddenly changed at a drastically fast pace.

"...W-what was that?" The officer blinked back at Seville, his eyes as round as saucers.

A strange glint of understanding appeared in my brother's eyes for a heartbeat, and then it vanished. "186 Fleet Street." He repeated steadily. "That's where our grandmother lives. In the old pie shop."

"Are you...sure?"

Seville suppressed a flinch, then nodded. "Positive."

"If-if you say so." The man started up the car again and began driving.

I kept my eyes on the house until it disappeared behind a corner, then I turned to Seville with a suspicious stare. "What was that all about?" I whispered.

"What was _what _all about?" He demanded in a hushed tone.

"Why did he look so scared?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. Don't lie to me."

"The only _truth_, Val, is that you need to get your eyes checked." Seville's voice was uncharacteristically harsh, and I flinched at it.

Ducking my head, I turned to gaze back out the window.

* * *

><p>We didn't live that far away from Fleet Street. Though, we <em>did <em>live far away enough to not be used to the gloomy, depressing vibe that the street's area gave off. In a sense, I liked it. Everyone who lived around here had skin tones similar to mine, for one thing. I didn't need to be worried about being teased.

But as we drove through the dusky, shadowy streets, my heart tended to speed up a bit.

Hmph, and I could only imagine why...

When we finally came across the street sign that read _Fleet Street_, I couldn't help but notice the officer's grip on the steering wheel tighten.

"Almost there." He stammered.

I was able to tell that he had meant to make his voice sound more assuring, but failed.

What was the big deal?

Seville let out a long sigh and gripped the handle of his bag. I did the same.

We soon came to a stop. I glanced up out the window and saw the familiar little building. Particulary the large, sloped window at the very top, and the fenced-in yard with a few tables and chairs set out.

"_This_ is your destination - correct?" The officer checked.

"Yep." I replied smoothly, gathering my stuff together.

Seville opened the car door on his side, but lowered his head to peer in at the cop once more. "What's your name, by the way? Officer Rhenny didn't tell us his, and we didn't know it until you mentioned it."

"Just call me Officer Barker, kids." He tipped his hat to us, offering a rakish smile.

I hesitantly returned it. "...Thanks for the ride." I opened up the door on my side and got out.

Seville walked around the car and joined me on the cobblestone curb.

"I'll come back to check on you two in a few days. Hopefully those parents of yours will turn up." Officer Barker told us.

I tilted my head to one side, but didn't reply.

Seville looked rather tense. "See you soon, then."

We watched as the man drove off, once again, unable to not notice the troubled expression on his face.

"...Seville," I stammered, finally looking up at my brother after a brief period of silence. "You don't suppose Mum and Dad are..._really _missing, do you?"

Seville shook his head. "I don't know, Val. We can only hope for the best. Come on." He turned to the pie shop door.

_Oh yeah. This place is _really _old. _I silently noted.

I hardly saw any shops like this in our neighborhood.

Then, thinking about this, I turned around and looked down the street.

Gray was the first color that came into my sight. It was the color of the cobblestone, color of the sky, and even the color of some of the vacant buildings across the street.

Why was there hardly anyone here?

"Val, watch out!" Seville exclaimed, glancing back at me.

I gasped as I bumped into the wooden threshold. Heh, I _did _have a habit of not watching where I was going. I still do.

"Oh!" Another gasp to echo my own sounded across the dark room.

Seville and I looked up to see a somewhat shorter, elderly woman with a dark purple dress enter in through the side door. She had her hand on her chest.

"Dearies!" She gave a weak smile through her quick breathing. "Yeh gave me quite a fright, yeh did! I thought you was a ghost!"

I smiled at the familiar, deeply Cockney accented voice.

"Hey, Grandma."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Ugh. YES, I couldn't help myself. Such a good place to cut off, huh?<em>**

**_Things'll start picking up soon (and yes, I know I keep saying that). Mainly, Sweeney's entrance into the story. It's coming soon. I think I have the perfect way to execute it, too. *Evil smirk*_**

**_I'm also currently looking for a good picture of Seville. I haven't found anything that really fits his description yet, though._**


	8. Guess Who!

**_Chapter 8_**

"No way," Grandma took a few steps toward us, a playful smile on her face. "These two can't possibly be me little Val and Sev."

"Meh," Seville shrugged. "It's us all right, Grandma."

"Oh," Grandma came over to hug us. "D'you's realize 'ow long it's been? I've missed yeh to death!"

"We've missed you." I told her, when we finally broke apart. "Mum and Dad never brought us over here though, after that one visit when we were little."

"Mm..." Grandma frowned. "...I know. Unfortunate, ain't it?"

"Yeah," Seville looked away. "...unfortunate."

I gave him an odd look, but he either didn't see, or didn't care. He, instead of acknowledging it, went to go sit down at the booth next to the windows.

"Well," Grandma ushered me over to the booth as well, pushing me down into it next to Seville, and then sat down herself. "you was sayin' they kicked yeh out?"

"Not exactly." I grinned sheepishly. "That was...kinda an exaggeration."

"Oh?" She rose an eyebrow. "'Ow so, love?"

"We were just told that we needed to be under adult supervision. So we mentioned that you were the closest relative who was willing to take us in." Seville explained.

I nodded.

Grandma shook her head. "Those cops don' know what they're talkin' 'bout. I'm sure your Mum and Dad are fine."

There was a long string of silence, until she hesitantly broke it, "'Ow 'bout I get yeh both somethin' to drink, eh?"

"Root beer?" I requested delicately.

"Sure, dear." She smiled. "An' you, Seville?"

"I'm not that thirsty." He murmured, still staring out the window.

"Mm, all righ'." She stood up and walked over to the refrigerator, which looked strangely misplaced among every thing else in the room.

I leaned back in the booth and gazed out the window, observing the outside world again. It _was_, indeed, awfully gloomy. Seville appeared to have gotten lost in it. Or he was just thinking really hard about something. Either way, his expression was distant. Definitely not here, of all places.

"'Ere ya are, dear." Grandma came walking back over, setting down a glass.

I gratefully took it. "Thanks."

We sat quietly for a while, until Grandma mentioned something about setting a place up for us to sleep tonight. I rested my head into my arms after she bustled off into the parlor. Seville watched after her, narrowing his eyes.

I kept my head down. "Something wrong?"

"I'm fine," He stated. "Just wondering how long we'll have to stay here."

"Hopefully not too long." I said.

I wanted to fit in a few conversations with Grandma before we left...

* * *

><p>Dusk seemed to approach faster than usual. We were sat in the parlor. Seville was sitting on one of the couches with his feet up on the small table in the middle of the room, while Grandma was sat in the recliner by the fireplace. I was sat by the window, reading. Of course, as I every so often looked out, I noted that the street was even darker at night. That figured, really. It wasn't like I <em>wasn't <em>expecting it. Who wouldn't?

The sound of rustling brought me back to my senses, and I looked up from my book to see Seville hurriedly looking through his bag that he had set down beside the couch.

"You all right, Sev?" I asked in a casual, almost flat tone.

Seville ignored my question. "Out of _all _the knives I brought, I forgot my pocket one." He seemed to be talking more to himself. Too bad he was speaking loud and clear for both Grandma and I to hear.

Grandma looked up at the sound of the word "knives" and gave Seville a stern look. "Yeh brought knives? Why?"

"In case we might need them." Seville met her gaze.

There was an odd, intense exchange between them as they stared at each other. I felt rather out of place by just sitting there and waiting for the next word to be spoken, so I decided to speak up myself.

"Like I said, Seville...we hopefully wont be here long enough to have to use everything in our stuff."

Grandma's tensed shoulders relaxed a bit, though she still had a troubled expression on her face, and she was playing with a strand of her curly, graying hair (which led me to wonder if I got that from her) that framed her face. After this, she quickly (for her age) got up from where she sat and walked across the dark room until she reached the threshold, then she turned to look back at us. "Why don' you lot settle down for the night, eh?"

I blinked up at her questioningly. "Where are you going?"

"Gettin' a tad 'ungry, I am. Gonna go get meself somethin'." She replied easily. "You mus' be exhausted."

I shrugged. "I suppose I am."

"Lay down, love." Her voice was soothing. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow, I'll let yeh explore the street some more, if yeh like."

"That'd be great." I perked up.

"Good." She gave us one final smile before parting, making her way through the small hall again that led into the shop.

I watched her leave, then slid off the chair I was sitting on, and down into the blankets that she had set up for us - or just me - on the floor.

"Happy where you are?" I asked Seville with a smirk.

He was settling down on the couch. "Yes. Thank you very much." He reached over to flip off the lamp on the table.

We laid there in silence for a very long while, until Seville's snoring broke it. I rolled my eyes and shifted onto my side, facing the door again. It was then that I heard low muttering coming from the shop.

As quietly as I possibly could, I got up and out from under the blankets and crossed the room to peer around the corner. I could see Grandma. She was doing something at the counter. Just as I edged closer, she moved, and carried a tray of what I guessed was food towards the side door.

_Where's she going?_

She pushed the door open while resting the tray on her hip, and then turned. Realizing that she was going up the stairs, I followed. I waited until I heard the closing of a door at the very top before stepping outside. Moonlight washed over the building, nearly blinding me. The moon certainly wasn't this bright back home!

Squinting, I started up the stairs. Was I finally going to find the source of the pacing noise coming from the ceiling?

Well...sorta...

When I reached the top, I looked out over the railing.

_Wow..._

I could see over rooftops! The view here was amazing.

Only the sound of more hushed speaking coming from the room only inches away from me dragged me out of my tranced stare. I ducked down below the window at the top of the door and pressed my ear against the bottom. The sound of shoes stepping across creaky wood was the first thing that came to my ears.

Then an eerily familiar, dark toned voice of a man spoke up, "...Who are they?"

...Jeez. If mere hearing could kill, I'd be sprawled in a pool of my own blood by now.

"Don' you recongnize 'em, love?" Grandma's voice was a relief to hear. She didn't sound too fazed by this intimidating being.

"It's..." The man paused, as if thinking, then went on with very faint hesitance. "...it's Seville, isn't it?"

I held back a gasp. How did this stranger know my brother's name? Did he know mine too?

"Good job. I didn' expect yeh to get that one, dear." Grandma sounded very good-humored, actually, to my surprise. "What abou' the other one?"

"I don't believe we've met." There was plain contempt in his voice now.

Grandma snorted with amusement, an uncharacteristic thing for her to do, in my opinion. "'Course you 'aven't met Valerie, Mr. T! Poor dear was only little when she came 'ere last. Didn't want _you_ to give 'er nightmares."

"Yet you pestered me for weeks after getting that call from Benny's wife that the boy didn't come out of his room for..." The man, once again, paused, then started up with a hint of smugness to his voice. "...for equal weeks, Elle. _Weeks_. I was aware of my grand abilities, but never did I believe them to work with that much dexterity."

"Hmph...'ow long 'as it been, love, since yeh used that word last?"

"Don't get me started..." The man, supposedly called Mr. T, grumbled. "Now leave me."

"Leave you?" Grandma repeated. "With all this carin' I provide you with, I don' see why I shouldn' jus' stay 'ere until I keel over and die."

"Because I don't need you right now." Mr. T growled.

"So you're admittin' to the fact that yeh _do _need me sometimes...?" She checked.

"Elle..." Again with the warning tone. "...I'm not asking you anymore."

"Oh, all righ', all righ'!" Grandma's voice got nearer to the door.

I knew I needed to move, but I longed to hear more if I could.

"Elle?" Mr. T's voice made her stop in her tracks, and I could tell she turned right back around to face him again.

"Yes, love?"

"...Keep them away from me. We shouldn't have any further disagreements."

Grandma exhaled, and I could have sworn I heard a little bit of disappointment in her breath. "Very well, Mr. T." She placed her hand on the knob, and I gasped, stumbling backwards. "See you tomorrow, then."

The door opened, me still in front of it.

Grandma stared at me in horror, too shocked to gasp. I gaped right back at her, then hesitantly looked over her shoulder. A man - the solid outline of a man - was positioned at the huge, sloped window.

With no sound of a door closing to assure him, he flipped around with a hard glare. I couldn't help but jump at the sight of him.

He wore very old-fashioned clothing, with a white pinstripe shirt and a buttoned up black vest to go over it. His hair was jet black, about shoulder length, and madly curled...but the white streak was the thing that left me utterly perplexed. His skin was ghostly pale, perhaps even more so than mine.

"D-dear," Grandma dragged me to my feet and quickly slammed the door before I could make out any more features, pulling me towards the stairs. "You've seen enough for one night, eh?"

"Who-who _was _that?" I cried. "Since when did you start letting guests stay up there?"

Grandma didn't reply. At least, not until we entered into the pie shop. She slammed that door too and grabbed me by the shoulders, staring me straight in the eye.

"Valerie, listen to me," She stammered. "don' tell any one a word of this."

"Seville has a right to know!" I protested.

Grandma let go of me with a stressed sigh. "No...'e already knows."

"What?" I whispered.

"Seville met Mr. Todd years ago." She told me. "_But_, 'e doesn't need to be reminded. The two don' get along that well...That last time was a bad experience in itself."

I didn't understand. What was so secret about this?

"Who was that man?" I tried.

"It doesn't matter. 'E wont speak to you." She nudged me toward the hall. "Get to bed. Don' think about this. Jus' do it."

She aimed another jab at my back, shoving me forward. I staggered into the parlor, but hung back to look at her again.

"Grandma, I-"

"Jus' go!"

I quickly lowered myself into the blankets and watched her as she hurried into the hall beyond, making her way into her own room.

I didn't sleep that well. As much as I didn't understand, I found it even more confusing that Seville would keep a secret from me. Like I said, we _never_ kept secrets from one another. And even so, what secret was there to keep?

That man was just a mere guest.

Right?

Pfft. _Wrong_.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Hurray for Sweeney entering the story faster than I planned for! (Even if he didn't speak a word to Valerie yet; THAT will be soon as well!)<em>**

**_I've found a picture for Seville, by the way. It's on the first chapter, by Valerie's. I might be putting them up on my profile, actually, just to orginize things a bit more. But the two main characters are on the first chapter. So, yeah..._**

**_OH, and I totally named the chapter what I did so people could finally start squeeing about something. If you get my drift, anyway. ;)_**


	9. A Bookstore Owner

_**Chapter 9**_

I blinked open heavy eyes, and slowly lifted a hand to wipe sleep from them. Grandma was in the shop again. I could hear her entering in through the side door. Then, remembering last night, I bolted upright and looked around. The parlor was still rather dark, even in the morning. Seville was laying on the couch, just as I left him the night before. He wasn't sleeping though. His eyes were blinking drowsily every now and again, but they focused more when they rested upon me.

"Hey," He greeted. "good morning."

"Seville," I sat up, kneeling now. "I've got to talk to you."

"What about?" He questioned.

I paused. Why did I want to ask him about the mysterious man upstairs? What benefit in there was for me?

_Why did Seville keep him from me in the first place?_

The latter sounded like a better path to take, but still...I couldn't help but ponder on the threatening glare that 'Mr. Todd' gave when he turned around to face me that night. He looked like he was getting ready to commit murder!

"Hel-lo?" Seville jolted me out of thought.

"Oh," I shook my head, trying to clear it. "er..."

"Breakfast's ready, loves!" Grandma called, cutting me off.

I flinched. She was going to act like last night never happened. I knew it.

"Come on. I'm starved." Seville stood up and headed in.

I sauntered after, my head low.

The room was brighter today, at least. Seville and I sat down at the booth, and Grandma put down a plate of french toast.

"I'm gonna 'ave to run out to the market soon," She told us. "I should'a stocked up when I knew you was comin' over, but I was..."

I looked up when she paused for a noticable amount of seconds.

"...cleanin' up." She finished lamely.

_Nice save. _I commented silently, resentment fizzing in my chest.

She made up for it though, by continuing in chatter like nothing was bothering her, "'Course, I 'aven't 'ad any guests since ol' Al died. Poor dear." She tilted her head to the side as she gazed at a picture hung up from across the room.

Seville and I peered that way as well, and saw a picture of a much younger Grandma, or Elle, with a somewhat chubby man. They were smiling pleasantly, apparently enjoying each others' company.

Grampa died soon after Seville was born, and even then, they never really got to know one another. But surprisingly, Grandma's expression wasn't particulary longing, as one would expect a widow's expression to carry, as she stared at the picture. It was rather thoughtful, actually.

"...Righ'," She shook her head. "erm...excuse me, would you? I jus' remembered forgettin' those darn plates last night."

Her words didn't exactly make sense, but she didn't appear too keen to correct herself. Instead, she quickly made for the side door and vanished without another word. I stared after her with narrowed eyes.

I had no idea Seville was looking at _me _with the same expression.

Only his nearly inaudible murmur of, "You _know_..." made me turn to face him, startled.

"What?"

"You know." He repeated.

"Know what?" I whispered, leaning in across the table.

"Him. You know about him." Seville suddenly looked as though he was going to be sick. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, and shaking his head ruefully.

"The...the guy upstairs?" I checked hesitantly.

Damn Sev and his vague words!

"Yes." He confirmed.

"I...I don't see what the big deal is, Sev." I confessed. "Just tell me."

Seville met my eyes. "You don't need to know a thing. All you need to know is that he's dangerous, and I won't allow you to go near him."

I thought about this for a moment. Mr. Todd looked dangerous...yeah. Yeah, he certainly did.

"Why is Grandma letting him stay here if he's so dangerous?" I sneered.

"Why does she live in such a creepy house?" Seville shot back. "She confuses me, Val. Just let her look after the man. She promised me he wouldn't come down from that room. I'm glad."

"He wont come down?" I tilted my head. "Why not? Anti-social, or something?"

"That...uh..." Seville looked rather nervous now. "That _is _part of it, actually."

"You know." I glared daggers at him. "You know, and you won't tell me."

"Grandma's leaving you out of this for your own good," Seville said dismissively. "Leave it at that, all right? You should be grateful."

I pushed my plate away, not exactly feeling very much hungry any more. There was no sound from upstairs at all. The thought of what could have possibly happened made my heart jump into my throat.

However, Grandma did come back down with plates. Plates with barely touched food on them.

Seville and I pretended not to notice.

* * *

><p>"All righ'," Grandma opened the door for us, letting us rush out onto the cobblestone street. "don' stray too far. I ain't goin' to look for ya, ya know."<p>

"Got it!" Seville called over his shoulder.

I followed after him, struggling against the sharp, crisp wind. I really didn't know what Grandma expected us to do out here. There were no people in sight. But she told us that if we looked hard enough, we'd find some interesting people, and kids of our age. What _were _we looking for, though?

"Hey, look at that!" Seville exclaimed, bolting off in a random direction.

I rolled my eyes; For a fully-fledged teenager, Sev was rather easily amused.

Taking one last look over my shoulder, in which included a brief glance at the sloped window, I began walking after him. But just as I was turning my head, I could have sworn I saw a pair of dark eyes glaring my way. Just a glimpse, but doubtlessly there. I shivered and kept walking, as much as I wanted to stop, turn around, and stare back.

_That's it, _I thought angrily. _if Grandma and Sev think they can keep stuff from me, they're wrong._

Seville could stay out of it, if that was what he wanted. But _I _wanted to get in.

* * *

><p>"Honestly, Sev... does it matter what residents of Fleet Street throw in their garbages?" I leaned against the dark alley wall, rolling my eyes, while Seville was peering over the edge of a dumpster.<p>

"Ugh," He backed off, holding a hand over his nose. "that's foul."

"_No_, really?" I couldn't help a grin from making its way onto my face.

Seville grinned right back as he strode up to me. "Grandma said we could explore," He took a look over his shoulder at the dumpster, and then back to me. "and I'm exploring, Val."

"Obviously." I walked on beside him.

We looked back out into the street, still watching for other people.

"No one yet." I remarked, trying my best to sound dull. "Why do you think no one's here?"

"Er," His smile vanished. "I...I have no idea."

"Maybe it's the weather." I suggested. "Didn't you notice how it was sunny yesterday morning? When we came here, it was all cloudy. It's like..."

"...the clouds like to reside here?" He finished with an understanding blink of his eyes.

"Yeah." I coughed, pressing the back of my hand to my mouth. "Ahem.." I cleared my throat wearily, not exactly sure whether or not I was trying to break a silence.

"You alright?" Seville checked, his hazel eyes still scanning the street.

"Yeah," I replied. "fine."

I don't know why we stood there for such a long time, but at Seville's silent beckon with a hand, I followed him across the street.

Did he know his way around here better than I did? Surely Mum and Dad wouldn't permit him to walk around here alone at the age of eight? That _was _how old he was when he was here last, after all.

"You _do _know how to get back, right?"

"Of course, Val! I mean, I'm sixteen. Obviously..." His voice was cut off at my glare.

"I sure hope that's not the only reason why we haven't gotten hit by a car yet." I grumbled.

"There _are _no cars around here, Val, remember?" Seville matched my tone.

We were standing on the other side of the street, looking around again. I didn't take much notice of a faint tapping noise from behind. Only when I felt Seville's hand touching my arm to get my attention, did I turn. We were standing in front of a bookstore. A man with neat, dark brown hair and kind eyes was peering at us through the store window. He looked familiar.

Exchanging a glance with Seville, I shrugged and grabbed the knob to the door of the front of the store, pulling it open. The tinkling sound of a bell startled me, until I remembered that most shops around here had those over the entrances.

We turned to look at the man expectantly.

"...Don't tell me," He held up a hand in obvious sarcasm. "let me think." He tipped his head back, but it came right back up. "Seville and Valerie Lovett?"

"Ted?" Seville crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. "Teddy Turpin?"

"Glad to hear I'm known." The man stated, striding forward to grab me by the shoulders and look me over. "You've grown." He stated.

I pulled away, straightening my unzipped beige jacket with the faintest scowl. "So I have." I agreed, then leaned over to hiss into Seville's ear. "I don't recongnize him."

"That's Teddy Turpin," He hissed back. "Sort of stuck up, if I say so myself. He's...okay, though, I guess. Mum and Dad know him from the last time we came here, and more before that."

I turned my attention back on Teddy, who was shuffling through stacks of random books on his desk, muttering under his breath.

"So," He spoke aloud. "What are you two doing back after so long?"

"Well," Seville sighed. "It's silly, really. See, our parents left out of town. They were just...gone, for a while. Then a cop came by to tell us we needed to leave because we weren't under adult supervision. Officer Rhenny, I'm sure you've met him. Right?"

Ted turned to stare at us, bewildered. "No." He took a few steps toward us. "Officer Barker. That's the only one I know."

"Oh," I shrugged. "Well, you get it. It's downright stupid that they'd consider us too young to look after ourselves. I mean, God, I'm turning thirteen in Febuary!"

Seville nodded vigorously.

Ted didn't speak, however, or at least reply to what I said. He walked around his desk and sat in the rolling chair just behind it before looking back up at us. "Where is it you're staying, children?"

I felt a glare coming on at the usage of the word "children", but bit it back when Seville began speaking, "Our grandmother's, just like last time."

He paused, then straightened the glasses that rested upon his nose. "Elle Lovett?"

"Yep. That's her." I confirmed.

Jeez. Why did it seem like everyone we met lately already knew her name?

"...Listen," Ted stood up from his desk again and walked on over to us. "You _should _get back to her. Don't you think?"

"Well," He backed us up into the door as I spoke, "I..I suppose-"

"Try to help her out as much as you can, all right?"

"We will." Seville nodded.

The two exchanged another _knowing_ look.

I just didn't understand.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Teddy Turpin :D I love that name. *cough* Doesn't it just remind you of something?<strong>_

_**...So yeah, lack of Sweeney again. But don't worry. He'll be back.**_

_**My birthday was quite a few days ago. August 16th. I'm a teen now. 8D? **_

_**But after that, I just had major writer's block. Even worse than before. I still do. And I sorta lost inspiration. So, that's something I'm desperately hoping to regain.**_

_**And once again, that's all. I promise this'll get interesting soon. D; If you are still sticking with this, I thank you. XD **_


	10. His Warning

**_Chapter 10_**

Walking back. Dreading getting lost.

..._Getting _lost.

_Ugh. _

Why, Sev? _Why?_

"Fleet Street is a straight shot, Sev," I said suddenly, making my tone as incisive as I possibly could. "..._how_, and I repeat, _how_, can you get lost?"

"There you go again." He muttered in reply. "Does my head taste good, Val? Are you enjoying the flavor?"

I pretended to spit out, gagging. "No. Not at all." I smirked. "That's..._foul_."

"Okay, okay," He suppressed a smile. "That's a good one."

We were navigating along the sidewalk, looking for something familiar, and telling jokes to make up for the fact that we were majorly starting to freak out, of course.

"Grandma's gonna kill you." I supplied, toneless.

Seville's expression was irriated, no doubt. But he wasn't speaking.

Ever since we came here, he's been so quiet...

Only two other people obviously knew why, and since the one I already tried for answers wasn't giving me anything, I'd just have to cope with the latter...

The rushed pattering of shoes from behind took me by surprise, and I couldn't flip around fast enough to prevent what happened next: A flash of red collided with my brother, and I jumped back with a shriek of alarm.

Seville stumbled, but he didn't fall. The reckless runner, however, did.

"Hey!" I glared down at the person who now lay face down on the cobblestone. "What's the big idea? Do us all a favor and watch where you're going!" I grabbed the person over the shoulder and flipped him over.

It was a kid.

He stared up at me with wide eyes, his cloudy, mouse-brown hair stuck to his forehead. He must've fallen into a puddle.

Seville was looking down at him with concern, lost for words.

"S-sorry," The stranger stuttered. "I-I'm in a hurry." He got to his feet.

I finally got a good look at him. He looked just a very little older than me.

"Hurry?" I questioned, my voice full of scorn. "What - late for dinner?"

"Just that, actually." He grinned sheepishly. "Aren't you?"

I stared at him hard, then turned to look at Seville with a shrug. "We haven't got a clue what Grandma has in mind, actually."

"Grandma?" The boy looked up in surprise.

"Yeah," I beckoned to Seville, and we began walking away. "and speaking of which, we really should be getting back."

"No-no-no, wait!" He exclaimed, tagging along beside us (to my annoyance). "You said Grandma. Don't you have any parents?"

"Of course we do." I snapped lowly. "And it's none of your business, anyhow."

"All right," Seville was actually the one that stopped me this time, believe it or not. "Hey, kid, I don't recongnize you. I've been here before, you see. Who are you?"

He placed a steadying hand on my back to keep me in place.

"I'm Derek," The boy did a little mock bow my way, and I recoiled from punching him in the face.

Why was I so angry?

Well, it _was _going to rain out soon, by the looks of it.

But then again, it _always _looked as though it were going to rain out here.

At my defense, I absolutely _hate _sharp, sudden introductions with sharp, sudden movements. Mainly, my brother getting run into on the street. Not by a car, but by someone who had the _nerve_ to -

"Val?"

I looked up, shaking my head. "What?" Okay, I admit... I perhaps sharpened my voice a little too much.

"Didn't you hear?" Seville looked puzzled. "He said his last name is Barker."

I blinked. "Did he?"

My brother nodded.

"Er..." I turned back to Derek Barker, an apologetic gleam in my eye. "...you must be Officer Barker's son, huh?"

"Yeah," He perked up. "How did you guess?"

"We met him yesterday morning." Seville told him.

"And, if you're his son," I went on. "then you must know how to get around here, right?"

"I suppose." He looked a tad more questionable as he gazed at me now. "What is it you need?"

"We need to get back to our Grandma's. We're lost."

"Um..." Derek took a hesitant look over his shoulder, but in the end, he smiled at us. "I guess Mum wouldn't mind me staying out a little longer."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"So, what's the address?"

I froze, then looked up at Seville.

He sighed. "186 Fleet Street."

Derek had already bolted a few paces down the walk by now, but at this mention, he froze himself and turned around to face us, his eyes round with shock. "What?"

...Okay, I was _really _starting to get tired of this.

* * *

><p>"Here you are." Derek led us around a sudden corner, and I was surprised to be right back in front of the pie shop again.<p>

"Wow, thanks!" Seville exclaimed gratefully.

Derek gave an earnest smile. "I grew up here for as long as I can remember." He told us, then looked up at the shop before giving a plank of wood nearest to him a pat. "I passed by this old place quite a lot on my way to school. Erm...but since summer break, Mum's been keeping me home as much as she can manage."

"Why?" I tilted my head.

"Oh, uh," He suddenly looked horrified. "I-I'm not supposed to talk about it." He turned away. "I'll see you two some other time though, eh?"

Seville gave a stiff nod of his head.

"See you." Derek gave us a weak smile, which looked an awful lot like his father's, before running down the street. I had a funny feeling he let his scared expression go as soon as his back was turned to us, though.

Seville breathed out heavily and headed in, and I followed him.

"'Ey," Grandma's head poked out from within the parlor. "there yeh are, loves! You 'ad me worried." She came bustling in to check us over. "Are yeh 'urt?"

"No, no, we're fine." Seville reassured her. "This kid helped us."

"Kid?" She questioned. "What kid?"

"Derek Barker, his name was." I told her. "He was pretty nice. He knew his way around really well, so he had no problem with helping us back here when we got lost."

"Oh.." She looked mildly surprised, but I didn't bother asking why; I figured I'd find out soon enough anyway.

* * *

><p>"Sev, let your sister sleep on the couch tonight." Grandma ordered.<p>

"Ugh, _fine_." He rolled his eyes, and I held back a laugh.

We were just laying down. I took the couch, while Seville layed on the floor. It seemed like once the lights were out, he had no problem with sleeping there though. His snoring startled me from a dazed trance that was directed at the ceiling. I had noted that Grandma went straight to her room tonight. Would it be smart to go upstairs and inspect? What would happen?

As if to taunt me, the creaky pacing from above made my fists clench from under the blanket. I wasn't scared anymore.

Well...at least I didn't think I was.

After waiting a few heartbeats to make sure Grandma wouldn't come out to quiet the sound, I gingerly swung my legs over the side of the couch and set my feet down with care. Then I crept across the room, and once I reached the threshold, I felt the slightest tug of stubborn hesitance. It was when I looked down at Seville who was sleeping soundly on the floor. I hated leaving him out of this, but at the same time, I knew he would've wanted it that way. Besides, he could change his mind any time.

Fighting down the hesitance, I continued down the hall. The room was eerily lit from the dim street lights outside, but besides that, it was mostly pitch black.

I thought I liked the dark. But...I never liked _this _sort of dark. Or, at least I realized that only when I came here. Tonight, the moon was gone. It wasn't blaring like before.

The nearly threatening pacing from the ceiling seemed to be telling me to turn back for my own good, but...since when did I listen for my own good?

Instead, I yanked the side door open and was on the stairs in a flash. The air was cold and unforgiving, and especially with only a white t-shirt and thin pajama pants to keep me warm. The feel of splinters digging into the bottoms of my feet reminded me of the band-aid that I just removed the day before. I'd probably need a new one soon...

When I reached the top, my heart was pounding unnormally fast. What was _I _afraid of?

But then the vision of Seville's horrified expression pushed itself into my mind again, and I suddenly had the answer.

I tried to ignore it. How bad could this guy be, really?

I took comfortably small steps toward the door, and by the time I reached it, I noticed that the pacing sound had stopped. I cautiously peered in through the glass at the top. The bright outline of the large, sloped window came into my sight first. No one was standing in front of it, though. Other than the light that it brought, the room was, as well, dangerously close to being pitch black.

Swallowing hard, and at the same time realizing that I should have brought a weapon of some sort, I grabbed the knob and quietly pulled the door open. The bell at the top made the faintest noise, but it seemed to get lost in the dead air. It was equally cold in _here_ too.

I was starting to get the idea that if I hadn't been lunged upon yet, all was good. So I took a few creaky steps into the dark room, trying to get a closer look at the window. The feeling of being watched - the feeling of eyes burning into my back - was making me simply too afraid to turn around.

I was soon aware of a chair in the middle of the room, nearer to the window. The little light the window provided illuminated the leathery barbering chair, highlighting strange, red streaks that seemed to be more so stained in. I leaned in, reaching out with a trembling hand, and traced the streaks with my fingers. It _was _dry.

How odd...

I couldn't help but hold in the smallest giggle; Had someone gotten severely nicked?

Ooh, I was _so_ close!

Just as I was straightening up, my smile vanished. Because at that same moment, an arm with a pure white sleeve that ended on the palm swung around and caught me around the neck, dragging me backwards. I gasped out, but was simply too choked up to scream.

In silence, except for my protestive grunt, I was slammed against the wall, back first. I stared up into what I expected to stare up into: Dark, hate-filled eyes.

Something cold and shocking was pressed against my neck, but I couldn't move my head to look down at whatever it was. I was forced to look up into that ghostly face again.

Heh, and _I_ thought I knew what being pissed off looked like!

After a short period of silence, I decided I needed to be the one to start up conversation, "...Mr. Todd." I greeted, emphasizing the name dramatically.

With narrowed eyes, he pushed away until he was at arms length of me. He obviously wasn't amused.

I tilted my head, despite his firm grip on me. "That...that _is_ your name, right?"

He straightened further (if that were even possible!) at this question, and then gave a finicky flick of his wrist when he finally let go of me. "My one and only." He rumbled.

I was shocked to see a gleaming, silver straight razor come away from my neck with such care. Mr. Todd hadn't moved from where he stood, but he wasn't holding onto me anymore. I could've slipped away if I wanted to...

...but that was the thing. I _didn't want _to leave yet. Not until I got some answers.

"What are you doing here?" I murmured, gazing up at him intently.

"Strange, lass. I was getting ready to ask you the same question." He told me, his voice level. His attention wasn't on me anymore. He was lifting the straight razor into the nearest light, admiring it.

When I couldn't find the right words to reply with, he added in a fairily dangerous, low tone of voice, "What _are _you doing here, Valerie?"

I still didn't have an answer. But that was okay. He'd strangle it out of me.

Silence again.

It was only broken when Mr. Todd gripped the front of my t-shirt, nearly lifting me off the ground. "What are you doing here, when I told your grandmother to make sure you were kept away?"

"D-don't blame her." I finally stammered, shivering under his icy touch. "It-it's not her fault. She doesn't know I'm here."

Noticing my struggle, he let go of me once more and turned on his heel, striding across the room until he reached the window. "You know, Valerie... I no longer have patience for children."

"Well, that's good," I was starting to get my confidence back just seconds after he let go of me. "Because I'm not a child."

"How old are you, Valerie?"

"What?" I looked up, startled.

"What is your age?" He grumbled.

"Twelve." I stated, standing a bit taller.

Mr. Todd snorted with amusement. "You've got unreliable spirit, Valerie."

"Meaning?" I crossed my arms over my chest, raising an eyebrow.

"Meaning, quite obviously, that if I were to raise a blade to you, I'd expect you to hunker down."

"I _don't _hunker down," I pushed off from the wall, taking a few daring steps toward him. "And what do you mean "raise a blade"?"

He paused, then turned around to face me with a blank expression that suggested I said nothing at all. "Wait a moment, lass," He gently pressed his gloved hand against my chest, pushing me backwards a few paces. "...your grandmother did the same when Seville and I met." He murmured.

Chills throbbed through my body, turning every organ to ice. Why was he so _cold?_

"D-did what?" I stammered, backing off.

Mr. Todd was silent. He was placing the razor back into the holster on his belt-wait, whoa, whoa, whoa! He has _holsters _for those things? Augh!

"Kept us at a distance." He finally replied, oblivious to my shock. His dark, gloomy eyes met mine. "I stay up here, and you stay down there." He turned away again, as if hiding something...

"Don't you get lonely up here?" I asked softly. My voice was a little above a whisper. I'm surprised he heard it.

"Why should I seek conpanionship from anyone below this shop?" He countered.

"Why _not?"_

"Because the world is pitch black. The sooner you learn that, the better."

Silence fell upon the room again. I didn't know what to say. How do you reply to something like _that?_

Mr. Todd shook his head, clearing something invisible. He then turned to face me, a hard look returning. "You should go," He said gruffly. "Your grandmother and brother would not be pleased to know you've come and seen me."

"If you're the one stating that, they should be fine with it." I pointed out.

"Maybe," He looked somewhat thoughtful now. "But in any case outside that door," He motioned with his head to the door. "_I_ don't want you here."

I frowned. "Oh." I sauntered across the room, my head low. I knew for a fact that he was still watching me leave. But the way the floor boards creaked, I could tell without even looking that he had turned around to stare back out the window, and over the rooftops.

Then I said something completely out of the blue - something that shocked even me.

"Can I come and see you again?"

I swiftly flipped around to see his reaction.

He visibly froze, then casted me a look over his shoulder. "...Why would you want to do that?"

I shrugged as soon as I knew he could see me. I didn't like the idea of leaving him alone in this cold, dark room. I knew I wouldn't have liked that.

As if reading my thoughts, he looked away and plodded back into the shadows - just beside the desk propped against the wall, to be exact. I cringed at the sound of the razors which clanked against their holsters at every step he took.

It made him sound dangerous.

"Well?" I leaned in. I was growing impatient.

He spoke sooner than I thought he would. "I can't find sense in reasoning," His voice was low and deadpan again. "And if you think you'll come out a better person for coming up here day after day, who am I to stop you?"

"I didn't say I'd come up day after day." I blinked, puzzled.

"...I can only assume your grandmother put you up to this, surely?" His voice had an edge to it.

"She didn't." I shook my head.

"No?" His pale face reappeared from the darkness as he gazed at me. "Well then, I can't say _your _decision is a wise one, Ms. Lovett, no..." The faintest smirk was present on his face, but it vanished as he went on. "If you were wise, you'd leave this street immediately."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Cliffhanger time, once again. But OH, was it a friggin' relief to write about Sweeney again! <em>**

**_:D_**

**_TheBrightsider - Your inspiration worked! 8D Yeah, I felt more natural writing this chapter. Not as choppy as the last one, in my opinion._**

**_I'm getting right on the next chapter now. Expect it soon! _**


	11. Silence Terms

**_Chapter 11_**

I clenched my fists. "Why?"

"Life cannot go on without conflict. At least not here." Mr. Todd eyed me in deep thought, then made a sharp turn and grabbed something from the desk just beside him.

"And what's that got to do with anything?"

This conversation was making me dreadfully tired.

"I daresay you'll fit my words into sense if you stay here long enough." He stalked back into complete sight, holding a brown, leather strop with both hands. He was adjusting it onto the back of the barbering chair when he spoke again. His tone was as absentminded and matter-of-fact as could be. "Of course," He pushed off from the chair with great force once the strop was attached, causing the whole thing to shake. "Only a fool would stay, but... no one listens to the warnings of a man who should be long dead."

I payed close attention to his facial expressions, but that last sentence caught me off guard. Now, his expression was a mixture of things.

Anger. Hatred. Sadness?

"Leave, Valerie." He murmured, refusing to meet my eyes this time.

"Wait," I held up a hand. "What do you mean by-"

"Go." He growled.

"...Ugh, fine." I stomped for the door and grabbed the knob. But before I could stop myself, I looked over my shoulder to speak again. "What's your full name?"

At the sound of my voice to follow his order, Mr. Todd's face was lit with anger. But when the question actually sunk in, his hand that had been edging towards the holster on his belt slipped down to fall at his side again. He stared at me hard, then gnarled lowly after a great deal of excruciating seconds, "It's Sweeney. Sweeney Todd."

* * *

><p>I woke up to the feel of Seville roughly shaking me.<p>

"Val," He exclaimed. "it's 1:00 PM, sharp."

I groaned, but reminded of the night before, I sat up and batted Seville away.

Should I have told him? He'd be angry with me. Though I soon learned that no one's anger could be great enough to match Sweeney's, I still didn't like it when Seville held grudges against me, as temporary as they usually were.

So I kept silent.

What else could I do?

"Where's Grandma?" I asked, sitting down at the booth with a bowl of cereal.

"She went out to the market." Seville replied, coming to sit beside me.

"Why didn't she bring us with?"

"You weren't up yet!"

I cringed, but Seville didn't seem to notice.

He instead went on. "Couldn't you sleep last night? You had the couch and everything, but one would think you stayed up half the night."

"I couldn't sleep, so I read." I lied.

"I didn't see you get a book out."

"You fell asleep a little while before I got it out."

"Oh," He shrugged. "Well, all right, Val." He watched me eat in silence for a while, then broke it. "Now all we need to do is wait fo-"

A loud beep from outside made us jump, and I quickly scooted closer to the window to pull back the curtains and peer through the glass. A police car was parked out in front.

To my displeasure, I recongnized Officer Rhenny. He was staring out his car window and up at the shop, his eyes narrowed in what looked like suspicion.

"Come on," I muttered to Seville. "Let's go see what he wants."

Together, we made our way outside. As we approached the car, Officer Rhenny rolled down the window.

"It's good to see you two still in-tact." He remarked. "Are you having fun here?"

Hmm...

Was I having fun here?

So far, it had been far from boring. Not fun. But...definitely not boring.

"Yeah," I blurted, and Seville nodded. "Much more fun than we expected, in fact."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Seville let a few silent moments pass before asking in a quieter tone, "Any news on our parents?"

"We checked your house just yesterday." Officer Rhenny said, his voice suddenly becoming quite tensed. "No one was home."

I sighed. How long was this going to take?

"They should've been home by now, Val," Seville whispered, as if sensing my doubt. "Something's up."

I didn't reply. I refused to.

"...Listen," Rhenny leaned over, sticking his head out, and beckoning with his hand for us to come closer. "A few days ago, a little while before I visited your house, we spotted a car speeding into the woods."

"The _woods?" _I demanded, incredulous.

"Is that where you guess they are? Deep in a wooded area?" Seville asked.

"It's possible. That car could've belonged to anyone, but as police officers, we need to look out for anything that looks suspicious."

I narrowed my eyes; It sounded like a hasty idea to get the case done quicker, in my opinion. But there _was _a wooded area near our house. It was a few minutes away, much closer than Fleet Street.

Why would Mum and Dad go there? If... if that was them, anyway.

"Where's your grandmother, then?" Officer Rhenny asked suddenly.

I felt my face ever so slightly growing hot. "Erm... she's not here."

He looked annoyed. "Why does it seem like every time I see you kids, you're alone?"

"Maybe because lately, that's exactly what's been happening." I pointed out.

Obviously sensing the tension in between us, Seville stepped forward. "She's not far from here," He reassured the cop. "She's at St. Dunstan's marketplace."

"I've never heard of it." Rhenny stated.

"I think it's been here long enough..." Seville murmured, suddenly looking perplexed.

I narrowed my eyes at him, without words.

Officer Rhenny rolled his eyes. "Well, you clearly have everything under control." I was the only one who was conscious of his sarcastic tone, and I scowled, while Seville was still staring down at his feet with a puzzled expression on his face.

"I'll either send Officer Barker to come and provide news next time, or I'll come myself." He looked intent on being serious with us now.

"It'll be a downright pleasure to see you again." I sneered, unable to keep bitterness from my voice.

He gave me a brief glare, but said nothing in reply as he started up his car and drove off, leaving us in the dust.

* * *

><p>"Well?"<p>

"Well, what?"

"What was that?"

I was following Seville back into the shop. Not even an hour after waking up, and he was already starting to get on my nerves. Not as much as Rhenny, of course.

Before he could make up another excuse, I slammed the pie shop door with such force that the sound echoed around the room. Seville flipped around to stare at me, his eyes round with shock.

"Can you just stop lying to me?" My voice was breaking and growing weaker. I certainly didn't want it to.

"Unless Dad tells me to, no." Seville turned his back on me.

I watched him frustratedly as he plodded into the parlor, looking pathetic.

_Asshole._

I allowed a tiny groan of anger at the back of my throat, then sat down at the booth and finished my bowl of soggy cereal. After putting it in the sink, I grabbed a sweater and headed on out the side door.

Sweeney was rather secretive and mysterious when it came to speech. My last visit proved that. But... I somehow knew he wouldn't lie to me.

When I reached the door, I peered in through the window and knocked. Sweeney looked up from the razor in which he was sharpening and casted me a piercing look that nearly knocked me backwards by the force.

"Come in." Was all he said, then went back to lifting his razor up to the light. He viewed it, squinting a bit, and then went right back to sharpening it.

I gratefully took the knob and walked in, collapsing onto the chest just beside the door as soon as it came into my sight. Sweeney didn't even look at me, let alone speak. This gave me a chance to really take in his appearance without him noticing. And as I did, I came to a realization: I must've been half asleep last night. Because now, wide awake, I suddenly noticed just how intimidating he was. There was an ominous, cruelly sentimental gleam in his eyes as he looked over his razors. It was a good sign to see _some _trace of love in his expression. But... was it, really, when it was aimed at a sharp object?

"Erm..." I decided that it was, once again, my duty to start up conversation. "...so, how long have you had those?"

Sweeney blinked out of his trance-like state. His eyes flicked towards me for a brief moment, then back to the razor. "...A very long while." He murmured.

"Like...long, as in, fifteen years, or something?" I questioned.

Immediately after I spoke, I knew I said something wrong.

A dangerous glint appeared in Sweeney's eyes, and his jaw clenched. I cringed as his gloved hand tightened around the razor he held.

Yep. I definitely just hit a nerve. If I hadn't already, that was.

His voice shook a bit as he finally replied, "Hardly. Much, much longer."

I tilted my head. He totally struck me as someone who would snap and lash out if angered. Why was he holding back from doing that to me so fast? We didn't even know each other that well...

"Uh...I-I'm sorry," I muttered. "What would..uh..what would you like to talk about?"

He turned his head fully to face me this time, studying me. I almost did hunker down under his sharp look. He hadn't even spoken, and I felt threatened.

However, after a moment, he straightened and raised his eyebrows. "Why not discuss your reasoning for why you and your brother bothered to show your faces on this street after so many years?"

I held back a biting retort. "We couldn't stay home." I muttered.

"And why is that?"

"Because our parents weren't there!" I snapped.

Did he flinch?

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He was staring at me in shock, and I felt a rush of satisfaction.

"You know," I went on in annoyance when he didn't say anything. "My father Benny and my mother Amri. You've obviously met them, right?"

Sweeney let out a low grunt and turned to stare out the window. "I know them very well. I, in fact, wasn't exactly the subject of your mother's liking."

"You weren't?" I hid the surprise in my voice.

"No."

"Why not?"

He snorted, then began twirling the razor in between his fingers in a sulky manner. "I remember her mentioning the words "unacceptable", "dangerous", and "freakish"."

I felt a strange pang of sympathy, but I honestly had no reply.

We spent most of our time there in silence after that. Sweeney didn't speak much, but he also didn't seem to mind me being there. Was it just because I was keeping quiet? Or was it because he actually liked my company? Maybe not even like. Just... didn't hate.

It was so quiet that the sound of the door banging open made me audibly gasp.

Even Sweeney jumped a bit, and then flipped around to glare at whoever was there.

I craned my neck to see who it was as well.

It was Seville.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Eh, I'm cutting you off again. Sorry. But you'll soon find, if you really stick with the story, that this is a very suspenseful moment. <em>**

**_*Hums innocently*_**

**_Oh, and by the way, Valerie's mother Amri - her name is pernounced Aim-ree, if you hadn't already guessed._**

**_But anyhow, do review. I'm anxious to know what people think. I really am._**

**_And HEY, I added on more Sweeney in this chapter for the PEOPLE. (Not really. I just wanted more interaction between him and Valerie. ^^ But Sweeney's presence... it tends to stir certain fangirls into a frenzy. You must understand that writers on here simply can't help themselves.)_**

**_;D_**


	12. Underestimated

_**Chapter 12**_

Seville was stood rigid with shock. Sweeney was staring straight back at him, hostility in his eyes. His grip on the razor was tighter than ever. Then his dark eyes broke lock on my brother, and rested upon me. Seville followed his gaze.

"Valerie!" He rushed to me and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me up. He looked furious."What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

My mouth was gaped open, but no words were coming out.

Seville shook his head angrily, then turned to look back at Sweeney. His voice was shaky with fright. "I'll give you credit, _psycho._ Thanks for not tearing my sister up!"

Sweeney took a threatening step forward, unsheathing his razor that was still held at his side. "You'd better just get out before I make do with that." He growled.

"Gladly." Seville turned away, dragging me with him.

Only when he slammed the door behind us did I find my voice. "How could you talk to him like that?"

"_What?" _Seville turned a wild glare on me. "What kind of freaky spell did he put on you?" He began looking me over. "Did he hurt you in any way?"

"No!" I thrust myself away from him. "Why would you think that?"

"Seville, did yeh find 'er?" Grandma came hurrying out from the shop, her eyes round at the sight of us on the stairs. "You both," Her voice immediately switched from frantic to stern. "Come down 'ere this instant!"

Seville started heading down, and I reluctantly followed.

"What were yeh doin' up there, Valerie?" She stammered.

They stared at me, and I ducked my head under their intense gazes.

When I spoke, however, I forced my voice to sound firm. "Sweeney didn't care that I was there, Grandma."

"Sweeney?" She demanded. "'Ow do yeh know 'is name? Did _you _tell 'er, Seville?"

"No, no! Of course not!" He yelped.

"I met him," I told her steadily. "And he talked to me." Irritation made its way into my voice as I added, "It was a very civilized conversation, in my opinion..."

"You don' know nothin' 'bout 'im." Grandma whispered. "An' I promised your parents I'd spare yeh the trauma of ever findin' out."

"I'm old enough." I insisted. "You don't have to keep secrets from me like I'm some kid. In case you haven't noticed, I've aged from four. Quite obviously, you can't fool me with the rat gag anymore."

"You ain't old enough for this." Grandma muttered.

"Well, what? Was the plan to just keep it - him - from me forever?"

"How well do you even know him?" Seville sneered. "It's only been three days, and you act like you've known him for years."

"I found out enough to know he's misunderstood. Perhaps a bit messed up in the head, but not murderous."

Grandma simply shook her head. "I know the facts, dear. Maybe you will one day. To be honest, I wanted this a while ago. But your father, an' especially your mother, wouldn' allow it. An' as long as your father keeps it so, I won' permit yeh to-"

"Won't permit me?" I cut her off, though I really didn't know what to say after that. So I didn't wait for an answer and stomped on inside. It was my turn to walk into the parlor in a huff, anyway.

I ended up sitting on the bench of the old, dusty piano that was propped against the wall, resting my head into the palms of my hands. I'm not sure when it started up again, but I found myself listening to the pacing from above once more. Something was agitating him...

"Valerie?" Grandma's voice came from the threshold.

I looked up, but as soon as I caught sight of her, I forced my head back down. "What?"

"You all righ', love?" She came over in quiet strides to sit beside me.

"As I'll ever be." I muttered.

She sighed and, once she was finally sat, rested her chin into her hand in a dull manner. "...'E's a fascinatin' one, that Mr. T. Ain't 'e?"

I stole another glance at her, already confused as to what she was getting at. "Yeah. He is, sorta."

"Yeh know...'e don' express fondness the same way you an' I would." Grandma placed her free hand on my leg. "But... that man is dedicated. I'll tell yeh that much."

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

"Seville isn't completely righ', Valerie. Yeh know that, don' yeh?"

"I figured."

"Oh, but yeh don' understand." Grandma took her hand away and lifted her head to stare at the ceiling. I followed her gaze. "You can go up there, Valerie, an' no 'arm whatsoever will come to yeh. Ever."

"What's Seville's problem, then?" I demanded. "You told him that. Didn't you?"

"It's not a matter o' that to 'im." She explained patiently. "Mr. T...'e..'as a mad temper, I s'pose you could say. But I wouldn' worry 'bout 'im," She offered a playful smile. "If 'e damages you in any way, I'll maim 'im faster than your parents ever could."

I smiled weakly at her effort, though something else was bothering me. "He... he has those razors though. They're his, aren't they?"

"Oh, yes. Indeed they are." She nodded. "And 'e'd go as far as 'urtin' those who state otherwise."

"So he _has _hurt others before, then?"

Just as my mood was starting to lift, her's seemed to just be spiraling downward after those words were spoken.

Grandma frowned. "We... we can only guess, love." She came to stand again, shaking her head ruefully. "I jus' wasn' there at the time."

I stood up just next to her. "Can I go back upstairs, then? I just think he's suffering from no human contact. Does he ever come down?"

She looked at me steadily, the smallest hint of an amused smile on her face. "No, 'e never comes down. You may go back up to visit 'im tomorrow, if you like. I think..." She took a swift look at the ceiling for a second time, then back to me. "...I think 'e wants to be left alone for now, dear."

* * *

><p>It was a bit later. Seville and I were sitting in the parlor, refusing to speak to one another. I listened, pretending to be interested, to the sound of Grandma baking brownies in the kitchen. I was trying to work out her purpose. She loved making us happy, I knew. Ever since we were little.<p>

But tonight, it felt more like a distraction.

A bad one.

"What do you think her reason is?" I muttered to Seville, who was sitting on the floor by the fireplace and looking through his bags again.

"She'll do anything to distract you from him." He replied matter-of-factly, though I couldn't help but notice the bitterness tinged into his voice. "I wish she'd done the same for me, personally."

Feeling another stab of annoyance, I crossed my arms over my chest. "I thought she said she _wanted_ this."

"She _did._ But not anymore."

"She obviously does still."

"Oh? And how do you figure that?"

I slumped further down against the floor, grumbling to myself. "Because she said it'd be okay if I were to go back upstairs."

"What?" Seville exclaimed. "But Valerie-"

"I'll be fine." I hissed. "For once, don't worry about me. Okay?"

Silence again.

We sat quietly. Much quieter than we had been in days. I knew Seville was unhappy with me. It was quite apparent. But he wasn't arguing anymore. That was all that mattered to me, for now.

* * *

><p>That night, after getting full from eating perhaps too many of Grandma's sickeningly sweet brownies, we went to bed. The fullness in my stomach, added onto the warmth of the blankets and, of course, Mr. Todd's pacing from above... I was lulled to sleep.<p>

It wasn't exactly a frightening noise anymore.

Perhaps now that I knew the source...

But then again, it wasn't long afterwards that I learned just how afraid I should've been, and how right I surprisingly was at the age of only four.

* * *

><p><strong><em>This one's short. -_- But eh, Val is hinting at something near the end. <em>**

**_I certainly can't keep Sweeney's brutal business from her forever..._**

**_;)_**

_**Please review! The next one'll be up shortly.**_


	13. By Dawn Light

**_Chapter 13_**

It was in the very early morning when I got up the next day. I checked the clock on the wall: 5:36 A.M.

Hm, and I didn't even remember going to bed that early.

I silently untangled myself from the blankets and, not having to reach far, I pulled my bag of clothes to me. After irritably searching around in it for about a minute, I finally pulled out a presentable pair of pants and shirt, both a bit grayish and dull in color (I hadn't exactly found my trend yet). It was only when I was heading for the bathroom, the pieces of clothing crumpled up in my arms, did I realize that the shirt had a noticable, reddish stain on it; Probably tomato sauce. What else could it be, after all?

I changed out of my pajamas and then, once out of the bathroom, threw them back into my bag. Then I searched around in the other for a bit more until I found a certain book, and of course, my mp3 player... hey, I wasn't going up there just to see the man who resided there. It was quiet enough to read up there, unlike many other near places. And the great view from the window was ideal for listening to music by, in my opinion.

After gathering that stuff together, I slipped out the side door of the pie shop, careful not to let the bell at the top jingle. It wasn't that I didn't want Grandma and Seville to know I was leaving. It was just that, after Grandma's approval, I didn't feel the need to get anymore permission. Besides, I was promised I'd be safe, even when upstairs, at all times.

Just as I was getting ready to climb the stairs, a small, almost pointed grunt was to be heard from behind. I turned, my mouth open in a silent gasp.

I recongnized the mouse brown hair and lean figure immediately.

"Derek!"

"Oh, hey, uh... what's your name again?"

"Valerie." I placed my hands on my hips as I stomped back down the small length in which I'd already stepped to stand directly in front of him. "And what are _you _doing here?"

"I-I just saw you going up to the old barber shop. I... thought I'd ask why."

"Why _what?"  
><em>

"Why you're going up there." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"What do you care?" I muttered, turning my back on him.

"Well... you-uh-you could get hurt."

"Hurt?"

"Yeah. You know, they say it's haunted."

"By who?"

He tensed up. "No one in particular." I could tell he was lying through his teeth, but he went on, obviously to make himself sound more convincing. "Let's just say my family admires him."

He then took a few steps back.

"Is that supposed to stop me?" I asked dryly.

"N-no," He stammered. "but, eh... I live further along." His voice grew a tad more sure now. "Stop by if you like. We're just around the corner, and Mum won't mind."

"Why?" I questioned, my voice proving just how blunt I intended that to sound.

"Well, I told my Mum about you, and... she said she wouldn't mind meeting you." He explained.

"Um..." I eyed him warily. "...I'll think about it."

"Great."

He looked a little _too _happy for my liking. I didn't get the chance to question him about it though. He was already running off, a skip to his step.

I had no idea what that was all about, but I certainly didn't give myself time to ponder on it. I was already noisily making my way up the stairs. I was sure Sweeney probably heard me by then. But... I just didn't expect him to slam the door open, grab me, and then sharply pull me in.

"What are you-!"

"Shut up!" He snapped.

He was clearly strong enough (to my shock) to hold me in a headlock with only one arm. He used the other to close the door - not too hard, but not too softly either, him being his "fond" self.

I was currently trying to push away from him with both hands; My neck was starting to hurt.

Sweeney soon lifted his arm up, releasing me. I was pushing off at the same time, however, and I ended up falling to the floor with a shriek of alarm. "What was _that _for?" I groaned, shifting position instead of getting up, so's I was sitting comfortably now. "Do you know how much I _hate _to be grabbed?"

Sweeney crossed his arms and leaned back against the door, staring at me with what looked like faint amusement in his eyes... if I didn't know any better, that was. "You'll find I may just know you better than you know yourself." He responded.

I looked up at him, disgruntled.

He seemed to just notice this though, and his voice retained its crisp sound. "Who was that boy?"

"Derek Barker." I replied thoughtlessly, rolling my eyes and getting back to my feet. I could've sworn I saw Sweeney stiffen in the corner of my eye while my back was turned.

"What did he want?"

I sat down on the chest to look back up at him steadily. "I'm-I'm sorry, do you-do you _own_ me now?" I looked around the room in pretend bewilderment. Then my glare returned. "So far as Grandma told me, that wasn't part of the deal."

Sweeney snorted and pushed off from the door. As soon as he reached the middle of the room, he turned around to face me. "You weren't here when she mentioned the other part."

"What other part?"

"The one that states: When you're within five feet of me, I am to be treated with respect."

"Ohh," I tilted my head back. "So, say I'm at six feet, and-"

"Valerie."

"What?"

Sweeney's pointed glare was the only thing that was able to snap me back into common sense.

I sighed and leaned my back against the wall. "Sorry. I'm just still sorta pissed from yesterday. Seville thinks you're going to hurt me, or something."

"Does he, now?" Sweeney blinked, then retraced obvious steps back to the window, where he gazed out over the rooftops. I squinted against the dawn light as my eyes followed him. "What else did he tell you?"

That question caught me off guard. So I simply shrugged. "Not much else."

"You're lying." He stated, gradually resting his eyes on me again.

I cringed, gritting my teeth. But I simply couldn't say anything.

Sweeney seemed rather calm at the moment, however. "If your grandmother stressed anything at all, it was to never pry while around you,"

I looked up in surprise.

"So I won't." He finished.

I gave a weak, shy smile in reply. He looked as though he were getting ready to do the same, but instead shook it off and walked over to his desk. His head was down, and his pale face was swallowed in shadows. One would think he'd've just gotten scolded for doing something wrong.

I leaned in a bit, confused. "Is... is everything okay?" I murmured, wondering whether or not he'd like if I was concerned (which I sorta was).

"Why?" He clenched his fists and turned to face me again. He looked angry, sure, but somehow... I had a funny feeling he was acting this way to cover something up.

"Well," I tilted my head back again, this time with the smallest hint of a smile on my face. "Judging by your stony expression, it seems like every day is a bad day for you."

"I wouldn't pretend like it isn't." He told me. His voice was quite close to inaudible again, and I nearly had to strain my ears to hear.

But I did. And I stared at him intently. "Is it?"

"One of certain taste would say so." He replied.

"You must be one of certain taste, then." I observed.

Sweeney narrowed his eyes at me. But after a moment, his tensed shoulders relaxed a bit. I felt myself relaxing in turn.

"...You are brighter than I originally thought, lass."

I grinned sheepishly. "Er... thanks, heh."

I still didn't exactly know how to act around him yet. For the most part of my life, I let many onto the idea that I was tough. Far tougher than I really am. Not to mention blunt.

Sweeney seemed like an equal in these traits, except... he actually appeared to have _followed through_ with them several times in his life.

_My_ motive, you ask?

Bullying.

What else drives a kid to such bitterness?

Sweeney's motive?

Well, that was for him to know, and me to find out... eventually.

"So, why did you grab me on my way in?" I spoke up boredly.

Sweeney turned away and began doing something at his desk. I immediately got the vibe that he was just faking it though.

"Can't one such as me give one such as you a scare?"

I rose an eyebrow. "You don't strike me as the person who'd do something like that for fun."

"You are right," He dipped his head. "Which means you've been paying attention."

"Come on," I slumped lower in my impatience, much like the night before when talking to Seville. "You're trying my patience."

Sweeney let out a husky sigh, then turned right back around with a more serious look on his face. "I mustn't tell too much," He murmured.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I held up a hand. _"Keep everything from little Valerie._ I get it. What kind of confusing, mysterious prophecy of an answer are you going to muster up this time?"

"Don't let anyone see you come up here, besides Seville and your grandmother." Sweeney ignored my words, and his voice now sounded as though it were dripping with icy cold venom...

Now _that _is saying something.

"Why not?" I whispered. My heart missed a beat.

Sweeney merely shook his head and strode past me, his large hand gently cuffing over my shoulder before leaving just as quickly, sending chills down my spine. He was behind me now. I wasn't sure whether to turn, and make it known to him that I was somewhat nervous around him, or stay perfectly still and stand the little ground I had left.

Not much to my surprise, he didn't give me a whole lot of time to think about it.

"I gave you the bloody confusing, mysterious prophecy of an answer that you wanted, little Valerie." His sneering voice sounded just over my left shoulder. "Take it; You'll need it. And _do_ try to be more grateful next time."

I shivered as he brushed past me again, at least relieved that he was standing in my vision once more. But I felt another stab of irritation to follow the last one. "That's a step up from being scolded for clumsiness."

"What?" He snapped out the word in his own annoyance, and I realized with pleasure that he hadn't expected me to have anything to say after that.

I smiled a bit as I walked over to stand beside him, dismissing the argument. I simply performed the friendly gesture of brushing my hand against the sleeve of his shirt, then perking up innocently when I came to stand in front of him. "...Nothing."

He looked a bit puzzled at this quirky way in which I was acting. Not a thing happened in between that, and the moment the door was opened.

"'Ello, dearies." Grandma came bustling in, holding yet another tray. She didn't seem awkward in the least that I was there.

For that, I _was _grateful.

While Sweeney was recoiling at her brisk, chirpy manner in which setting down the tray and turning to me, I was craning my neck to see what was on it.

"Pancakes?" I straightened, grinning at her. "Did you just make those?"

I was up there longer than I thought.

"Yes. If you'd jus' come downstairs an' see-"

"I could eat up here." I offered, my voice a bit duller than planned.

I really didn't want to spend the morning with Seville today...

She looked alarmed at this idea; Probably shocked that I hadn't driven Sweeney mad yet, if he wasn't to the max already.

"An'...you're all righ' with this?" She murmured, peering over my shoulder at him.

Sweeney was right back to looking out the window, but at being addressed, he just slightly moved his head to the side in order to view us. "She knows her place. She can stay."

My head shot back in disbelief, and I casted him a hard glare for that.

He allowed a small smirk in response.

"Well, I'll bring yeh up a plate, Val." Grandma nodded approvingly, then turned a stern glare on Sweeney.

So stern, I cringed; It certainly wouldn't be long now until I saw him putting those razors to use.

"An' _you_ -" She pointed a finger at him. "- yeh downrigh' lanky mess - you've finally got someone to be a good influence for. _Eat_ today, why don' you? I could've sworn I caught a glimpse of your ribs through that vest! Quit makin' me feel sorry for yeh!"

With that, she turned on her heel and stormily slammed the door behind her. Sweeney rolled his eyes and released a sullen sigh. "Just my luck."

"Huh?" I looked up at him.

He settled steady eyes on me. "I always need a bloody wonder in my life, no matter how much she yells at me."

* * *

><p>I was sat on the floor just beside the chest, my own plate resting on the chest itself. I'd take an absentminded bite every now and again, occasionally lifting my eyes to move them from Sweeney's still figure to the window and its growing light. It was quite nice to eat by dawn light, as I thought about it more and more. I soon took into notice that London mornings around here seemed to be the brightest times.<p>

Maybe just because it seems like a relief after all those hours of darkness at night. But as the day gradually processes into noon, it appears gloomier...

... Or maybe that was just Mr. Todd's fault.

"Why aren't you eating?" I asked plainly. It was another out of the blue question, the kind of question that I was most famous for asking.

Sweeney took an irritable side glance at me, then turned it to the plate of food that was most likely growing cold. "I'm not hungry." He replied after a moment.

"You aren't?" I rose an eyebrow. "You went all of yesterday without eating anything, and all night. Now it's morning, and you aren't hungry?"

"Thank you. I was beginning to wonder the time." He grumbled.

I frowned at his ill-humored attitude, and instead motioned to his glass of untouched orange juice. "Get a drink then, at least. Or else I just might help myself to it."

With a moment of hesitation, Sweeney jerkily picked up the glass, as if the only other objects he'd handled in years were the razors and strop. He brought it to his lips, and I watched in disbelief when he downed it in only two gulps. His eyes widened at the shockingly cold flavor that hit the back of his throat, but just afterwards he was struggling with suppressing the sigh of satisfaction that barely escaped his mouth.

I smirked. "Now, see, that wasn't so-"

His glare cut me off.

I paused. Then, when he was silent, I spoke up again when I found it most appropriate. "How do you feel?"

Instead of giving me a straight answer, he reached up and touched his throat in an odd, almost thoughtful manner.

I waited. Because honestly, I'd just have to get used to doing that.

Then finally, after setting down the glass, he spoke in a breathy tone of voice. "If I'd have remembered to do that, the headache would've been gone a week ago." He leaned into his desk.

I was immediately confused. He looked... dazed, and sort of alarmed.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing." He numbly walked over to his chair and sat, his arms down at his sides the whole time. "I guess I supposed Elle was speaking nonsense when she said it'd be a shock to get over dehydration."

"Obviously," I snorted. "You chugged that glass as to the point where one would think you were out in the desert for a month."

"Try a week." He corrected dully.

"W-what?" I blinked.

"Just," Sweeney pressed a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. "stop asking questions for five minutes, lass."

Frowning, I went back to eating the rest of my breakfast in silence. I only looked up again when I was done.

Sweeney didn't seem to have switched position at all. I shrugged and came to sit back up on the chest, grabbing the book just next to me.

The room was moving into that gloomy noon stage again. I had a feeling Sweeney wouldn't pay this any notice, and he didn't. He must've been used to it. And after a few moments of consideration, I realized that he must've perferred it, too.

He obviously didn't stray too far out into the sun, by the looks of his skin. Grandma _did _say he never left this room. I had a feeling it wouldn't take too long for that to make total sense.

After a while of sitting up there, and Sweeney's silence, I told him I'd probably come back later and left. He took it quietly, with only a grunt. I didn't think that was normal in the least.

Puh... how wrong _was_ I? I was aware that I still had much to learn. But if I really knew just how much I'd be learning over the next few days, I would probably have already packed up my things and left.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Ugh *covers eyes* I left this off for too long.<strong>_

_**My sincere apologies to anyone who cares. (It really makes me happy to know some people like this story. ^^)**_

**_But yeah, really sorry. I started this chapter quite a few days ago, and just didn't have the motivation yet again. And really, this inspiration thing just goes on and off at its own will._**

_**Hey, you know, as I was thinking about TheBrightsider who generously gave me some inspiration (I'm hoping she purchased it, and didn't take any from her own stash) a few chapters ago, it got me thinking. There should be like... a thing where you can give your friends virtual inspiration on here, like you can give your friends virtual martini's on Facebook.**_

**_Sure, it wouldn't matter a single damn bit, but it'd be sorta amusing (for about five minutes x.x)._**

**_XD_**

**_Yeah. There I go rambling again._**

**_Oh, listen. Back to the story: Hopefully, in future chapters, there won't be as many opened endings (like this one). There will be a few more ANSWERS. We all love answers, don't we?_**

**_Meh. But I can't promise I'll stop with the cliffhangers. They're far too glorious._**


	14. A Barber and His Wife

**_Chapter 14_**

I turned the corner and walked down the stairs warily; Grandma and Seville were sitting outside at one of the tables. As soon as he saw me coming from Sweeney's shop, Seville sighed and lowered his head. Grandma smiled.

What - was she relieved I hadn't gotten shredded?

Instead of speaking directly to them, I strode past them and gingerly climbed over the fence that surrounded the yard. "I'm going for a walk." I announced.

I was planning on speaking to Seville first, but... now that I saw him, and the expression he carried, I just didn't feel like bothering right now.

"Why?"

Speaking of which, Seville stood right up from where he sat and followed me just a few steps before stopping at the fence.

"I need some air." I remained with my back to him. Though I did put in enough effort to look at him over my shoulder.

"What did he say to you?" Seville asked lowly.

"Will you stop with that?" I immediately pushed down his hand that was already rising to rest on my shoulder. "You see he didn't harm me in any way, so now you automatically assume that he said something offensive?"

"Not offensive," Seville muttered. "Just... disturbing."

"Well, he didn't." I stated dismissively.

"Seville," Grandma soon stood up and hurriedly rushed to my brother's side. "You _know_ Mr. Todd wouldn't do anything 'e'd regret to Valerie."

"He wouldn't regret a thing!" Seville snapped.

"Come away from the fence, love." Grandma held a firm grip on his shoulder, and she eventually guided him back to the table. He still glared at me from there.

"Go if yeh like, Val." Grandma casted me an apologetic smile. "But be back before eight."

I nodded. "Fair enough."

She and Seville went back to whatever it was they were doing at the table, but before I could run off, a couple things happened:

I was grabbed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Grandma and Seville bolt up from where they sat.

And a raspy voice spoke close to my ear. "V-Valerie girl?"

"Moony!" Grandma exclaimed, halting at the fence. She let Seville jump over this time, and he seized who ever it was who had laid their hands on me.

"E-Elle, Seville..." It took more words, but I soon found the voice to sound rather elderly. Not _as _creepy.

I turned myself and watched as Seville jerkily moved away to stand beside Grandma again. An old lady with as much gray hair as Grandma's - though not as curly - was standing a few feet away. Her clothes were pretty strange looking, for a start. She wore a necklace with a cresent moon charm... that wasn't terribly strange. I've seen it before. But something about her still seemed rather off.

"W-why's she here?" The woman stammered, pointing a shaky finger at me.

"That's none 'o your business, yeh know." Grandma muttered, looking unwillingly irritated.

What now?

"Val, just go. We'll sort her out." Seville reassured me.

Wait - _what?_

"But I don't even understand what's going on!" I exclaimed.

"You know Grandma'll explain at some point. Just leave."

Ugh! It's a conspiracy! I swear!

* * *

><p>I ran in a random direction. I didn't really care where I ended up.<p>

Though it wasn't long after running that I realized I had gone left of the shop. Splayed out in front of me were many shops, most of which _weren't _vacant, surprisingly enough. All of which stood against the town's supposed theme color: Gray.

I found myself gaping up at a huge, old courthouse that seemed to be in the very center of the city. The top appeared to be touching the gloomy sky, and the very dark sight sent chills down my spine.

Was it odd that, as cloudy as it got here, it didn't rain all that much? Not that I'd seen of it yet, anyway.

More people were randomly standing around here, too. Not doing much. They were standing really still, too. I was considering going up to poke someone and make sure they weren't made of stone, but then I saw a woman and her daughter - both clad in strange, Victorian dresses - come walking out of the bookstore that Seville and I had been in just a few days before.

"Come along, Lucy." The mother chided, tightening the grip on her daughter's hand as she hung back.

I watched in faint amusement as the girl, supposedly named Lucy, trotted on at her mother's side and started chattering about something she had either learned or seen in the bookstore.

I crossed my arms and kept my eyes on them until they disappeared around a corner, smiling all the while; If I were to ever have any kids, I'd want them to be as into books as I was. I wouldn't force it upon them, of course. It'd just be luck...

"Ow! _Ow! _Derek, make him stop!"

A girl's voice, who sounded to be much younger than I, came from nearby. I followed the voice and ended up walking around the damp, gloomy corner. There was a rather large building here too, but it was behind a fence - most likely these peoples' backyards - that the voice had come from.

"Sorry, sis. You kinda deserved it." Derek's cocky voice nearly made my fists clench.

"_I _am a-"

"Woman? You're not a woman. You're a girl!"

I grasped the top of the fence and lifted myself as far as I could go. Almost immediately after I was able to get a good sight of what I was hearing, the fence was swung _open._

Oh.

I had no idea I was hanging onto the door.

"Valerie!" Derek exclaimed.

I hit the surprisingly grassy earth of the yard with a grunt. Derek grabbed me by the arms and pulled me to my feet, but I shoved him away as soon as I was up.

"What are you doing here?" He questioned, smiling at me curiously.

Before I could reply, a firm, rude voice spoke up. "Who's she?"

I turned, only to face a somewhat younger girl who looked to be around the age of seven. Her hazel eyes were glaring at me with suspicion.

She had blond, nearly golden hair that was tied up in a messy bun.

Beside her, a much more innocent-looking boy was staring at me, tilting his head all the while. I guessed he was around the age of four or five.

"This is Valerie," Derek explained, throwing an arm over my shoulders and pulling me closer as if we were old _chums _or something. "The girl I was telling you guys about. The granddaughter to Elle Lovett."

I was seething from beside him. "Derek... remove your arm from me, if you'd be so kind. You've already succeeded in being far bolder than necessary."

He froze, then jerkily did as he was told. "Er... yes, ma'am." His mood seemed to change for the better immediately after, however. "Valerie, this is my younger brother and sister: Tobit and Lucy."

They were still staring at me oddly, and I fought the urge to back off a few steps. Derek grinned nervously. "Val, I'll let you meet my mum. How about it?"

"Sure, I guess." I hadn't planned for this visit, but I supposed that while I was here, I might as well have gotten it over with. "Oh, and," I caught him by the arm and pulled him to me until I was glaring at him straight in the eye. "Don't call me Val. Only my brother and grandmother are aloud to do that."

Derek let out an audible gulp, and hurriedly began walking away from me again after he had yanked his arm free. "Of course... Lovett."

I smirked. "That'll do."

We made our way into the house from the back, and left Tobit and Lucy staring at us from behind for as long as we were in their sight.

There were many seemingly confusing halls in Derek's house. They started the moment we came in. They seemed to be from the very front, to the very back. And every now and then, something random would be seen sitting against the wood-panneled wall, on the floor. Like a broken guitar, or a globe resting on a bronze stand that was absolutely matted with dirt and dust.

It was also pretty dark in his house. There didn't seem to be many windows...

Finally, there was an arch opening. A woman with a long, blue and white dress and equally long, golden hair that fell down her back in an elegant sort of way was working in the kitchen that we had just walked into. She was obviously cooking something.

"Smells great, Mum." Derek commented as he strode in.

"Oh!" She turned around quickly, then gaped at me with surprise apparent on her face.

"Uh," I backed up. "If this is the wrong time, I could-"

"Oh, no!" She exclaimed. "Not at all!" She came over to gently sit me down at the table just in front of us. Derek took a seat beside me.

"Derek's told me a lot about you. Made me curious."

"Oh, um..." I turned a questionable glare on Derek, who merely gave a sheepish grin and matched shrug to go along with it.

"So..." She leasurly turned her back on us and began walking towards the counters again. "...your name is Valerie Lovett, from what I've gathered?"

Before I could reply with a yes, Derek already broke in. "Er... okay, Mum. This is an introduction. Not a test."

She stiffened. "...Of-of course."

I tilted my head at her as she came to face us once more.

"My name is Valerie Lovett, yes." I confirmed.

"Oh, well," She smiled politely. "I am Elizabeth Barker. Just call me Mrs. Barker, of course."

"Nice to meet you." I nodded.

"Derek, dinner's gonna be ready soon." Mrs. Barker told him briskly, checking on the pot that was boiling hot on the stove. "I'd expect you to be ready in turn when it is."

"Yes, Mum." Derek nodded, then turned a smile on me. "C'mon. I can show you my room if you'd like."

I shrugged and nodded again. His mum seemed nice. She seemed normal, but somehow strange at the same time, if that made any sense.

Derek was obviously over the oddness of her actions, because he was already hurrying for the hall just right of the kitchen. It was another doorless arch that I hadn't payed much attention to.

As I looked through, I almost fell down a very small flight of stairs. There were only three steps. But really - why bother?

They led down to a simple, lower floor that made up a small hall. At the end, there was finally a _door. _A closed one.

I rolled my eyes and followed Derek down it.

Then he pulled the door open and stepped in. I squinted a bit against the light.

"This is your room?" I questioned, looking around with wary eyes.

It really looked like any normal boy's room, with pieces of clothing and comics lying around the floor. What I noticed was that there seemed to actually be a great more deal of books lying around than comics.

Many on a shelf against the wall, too.

Was he a reader like me?

"Yeah," He sat down on the old-fashioned looking cot in the corner. "It's not much, but... you know - it's all I've ever really known."

"What's that?" I walked across the room at the sight of the small, narrow window near the ceiling. It was blurred a bit, but you could see the feet of people as they walked by. "What's the point of-"

"Oh!" Derek jumped up from where he sat and was at my side in a flash. "Just a little thing that was here since we got the house. Tobit and I love to spy on people. It's great fun."

Below the window, against the wall, was a desk. Just beside it was a stool that, strangely enough, had a backrest. I figured he must've put it on himself.

Derek sat on it and leaned back, picking his legs up to rest them on the desk's surface. "Yep. This place might just be safer for a bomb shelter than the basement."

It was then that something was brought to my attention: We were _below _these people who were walking by. But we weren't in a basement.

"We're upstairs, aren't we?" I asked, confused.

"Of course," Derek nodded. "But the house sorta... slopes, I guess you could say. You just don't really realize it at first."

Hmph. That was weird.

The screeching tires of a car from outside made me jump, and I climbed up onto the desk just in time to hear frantic voices.

"Lucy!" A woman's voice shrieked.

I gasped. "Your sister!"

"Nah, nah," Derek waved it off. "Lucy's still in the backyard. She's fine."

"Darling, do be more careful!" The same woman's voice from outside scolded. I could make out the short figure of a young girl following a much older woman down the street, supposedly recovering from almost getting run over.

Weren't those the two I had just seen earlier...?

"Lucy seems to be a rather popular name around here," I observed, reflecting on this one shop just around the corner I came from that had a sign up that read _Lucy's _in bold. "Benjamin, too." I added after a moment.

"Oh, well," Derek slipped away in silence to sit on his bed again. "Many parents believe that, if they name their daughters Lucy, they'll grow up to be good-hearted women... virtuous women." He looked a tad uneasy as he went on. "As for the name Benjamin, well..." He paused.

I leaned in. "What?"

"My father's name is Benjamin. Ben for short." He muttered.

My eyes widened. "My father's name is Benny."

"Whoa!" A grin broke out across Derek's face. "What a coincidence, huh?"

I frowned. This was weird. Perhaps a little _too _weird...

"But... _why?" _I pressed.

"Well," His grin vanished immediately. "It's... kinda a long story. Some aren't even sure if it's real. But most people around here are convinced."

"What?" I questioned, moving closer. I didn't really want to, but... I ended up sitting beside him. On his bed. Oh joy.

Derek sighed. "All right..." He took a deep breath, and I knew something long was about to come. "You see... a very long time ago, there was this man. A barber. His name was Benjamin Barker."

Wait...

Benjamin _Barker?_

"Hold on right there!" I held up a hand just as he was opening his mouth to go on. "_Your _last name is Barker. You honestly can't expect me to believe anything bizzare that has to do with your family name."

"Look," He sighed. "Just let me finish."

I groaned and propped my elbow on my knee, then rested and cupped my chin in my palm. "Fine. Keep going."

It didn't seem weird at first - that he was talking about a barber from long ago. Anyone could be a barber. Sweeney was a barber... or at least I was pretty sure he was. What else would those straight razors be for?

Grandma just never told me he moved back in after all this time, apparently.

"He had a wife named Lucy, and a baby daughter named Johanna." Derek explained, his voice far more serious than I'd ever heard. The very tone of it snapped me out of my thoughts. "His life was absolutely perfect in every way you could imagine, and he loved his family with every fibre of his being." He paused again.

Was he _trying_ to piss me off?

"But there was another man," Derek's voice grew a bit more rushed when he saw the face I pulled on him. "He was a judge..." He breathed the next name, and I could've sworn I caught sight of a spark of hatred in his eyes. "Judge Turpin."

"Yeah?" I murmured, urging him on. "What did he do?"

"He lusted after Lucy. He'd do anything to make her his own," Derek replied. "Even if it meant having to push down certain people who got in his way." He looked down at his lap now, pretending to focus on something on the wooden floor. "So, being the law and all, he manipulated his power and sent Benjamin away to be locked up and imprisoned in Australia."

My mouth was hanging open without my knowledge now, utterly shocked that the story had made such a turn. "And... and then what happened after that?"

Derek looked up from his lap to stare at me straight in the eye. "The Judge then had Lucy right where he wanted her. He sent her an invitation to the ball held at his house, stating that he felt at fault for her condition." He shrugged. "So when she got there, it, of course, turned out to be a setup. He caught her off-guard, and he raped her."

I gaped at him, speechless now. He waited for me to recover from shock.

"Wh-what did she do then?" I whispered when I finally came to speak again.

"She poisoned herself. Arsenic, apparently." His voice was fairily bitter as he said this, and I supposed I had yet to find out why.

"What about Johanna?" I stammered. "You said she was only just a baby."

"Lucy left Johanna with her and Benjamin's landlady," Derek looked at me oddly now, tilting his head a bit. "Nellie Lovett, who let Benjamin and Lucy stay in the room above her meat pie emporium, where Benjamin used to give shaves."

...

He could have quite possibly slapped me in the face for all I knew.

I didn't speak though. I didn't want to interrupt him anymore.

"But as much as Nellie tried to prevent it, The Judge ended up taking Johanna away. He raised her like his own with the ambition to marry her."

I screwed my face up at the thought. "That's _sick."  
><em>

"I know." He agreed with a nod.

"So then what?"

"Well..." The atmosphere in the room seemed to change. The light seemed to suddenly leave (it _was _sorta getting darker out, but this was different) the room, and the air tightened uncomfortably around me.

Derek's expression darkened. "...Fifteen years later, Benjamin returned." He finally stood up from the bed and walked to the very middle of the room, where he stood with his back to me. "But he wasn't Benjamin Barker anymore." After a heartbeat of silence, he faced me. "He was Sweeney Todd."

Silence.

After a period of what I thought was an appropriate amount of no words, a small smile broke out across my face. "C'mon, Barker. You can't actually expect me to believe that."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

I waved him off as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I've met Sweeney. He's fine. Why does everyone act like it's such a big thing? Is he the town freak, or something?"

Derek was frozen in front of me, his eyes as round as saucers. "...You've...you've _met_ him?"

"Of course. You've probably had an encounter or two, haven't you? He hardly ever comes down from his shop above my grandmother's house, but he's there." A tiny glare was present on my face. "You can't expect me to believe that jumble about his past, though. Who'd ever come up with something like that?"

It was Derek's turn to be speechless this time. He sauntered back over to the cot and sat beside me again. "Valerie... he died in 1846. He's not alive anymore."

My heart jumped into my throat. "...Wh-what?"

"He's dead." Derek stated. "Because, when he came back, he wasn't the same man he was fifteen years earlier. He was angry. He wanted revenge for all the years of hard labour he had to go through. The only thing that got him by was the thought of being able to see his wife and daughter again." His expression carried that of a glum state of mind. "But he came back to Fleet Street. The old pie shop," He motioned out the window. "To where Nellie Lovett worked. She informed him of what happened while he was gone. About Lucy poisoning herself, and about Judge Turpin taking Johanna on as his ward. And... he wasn't happy. He swore definite revenge. He went by the new name of Sweeney Todd."

"But how did he die?" I pressed. Then I crossed my arms stubbornly. "I mean, you know, if he even did."

"Um..." Derek certainly looked uncomfortable now. "...well, considering he had his straight razors in his possession again..."

"Yeah?" I leaned even further in, impatient.

"He opened up his old shop again." Derek explained. "He'd be so polite to the men who'd come in for a shave..."

Was it just me, or did Derek's skin get paler than usual when he spoke again?

"He'd pretend like he was about to shave them, and then..." He hurriedly leaned across the cot and grabbed a particulary sharp pencil from his headboard, then made a sharp motion with it that explained everything, even without words. "...he'd slice them up pretty badly. He slit their throats and sent them down a trapdoor behind his barber chair, where they'd fall into the bakehouse below. There, Nellie Lovett would take their meat and use it in her pies. The customers were totally oblivious to it all."

Ugh.

I felt as if I were going to be sick.

"So... so what? Were they found out?" I asked. "Were they hung, or something?"

"No. You see, on the ship that Benjamin arrived on, he made an aquaintance. A man who went by the name Anthony Hope." Derek explained. "Anthony saw Johanna sitting at the window of The Judge's house, and he was immediately smitten with her." He looked away. "Long story short, Mr. Todd murdered Judge Turpin and got his revenge. Anthony and Johanna got away. But... as it turned out, Nellie misled Mr. Todd into thinking Lucy had died, when she really hadn't, and had instead been turned utterly mad by the arsenic. Mr. Todd found this out by killing her on accident after not recongnizing her, and finding her body soon after. He was furious with his landlady, and he killed her in the bakehouse. He threw her into the furnace, and she burned to death."

I cringed. I didn't really want to know, but I had to ask: "How did _he_ die, then?"

"Well... that's really the mystery of it all. He was found cradling Lucy's dead body in his arms, and he apparently bled to death by the throat, as if he had had his own throat slit. No one knows who did it though. Some say he did it by himself. Others say that a resident did it after finding out what he and Nellie had done." He finished, and silence followed his speech.

I didn't know what to say. That story was far too horrible to be true. Even if real life stories ended more badly than made up ones, I still couldn't bring myself to believe it.

How... how _awful._

Just as I was opening my mouth to state my doubt to Derek, Mrs. Barker's call came to both our ears.

"Ah, dinner must be ready." Derek said smoothly.

His mood seemed to brighten as if it had never darkened in the first place.

We were heading for the door when I spoke next. "Are you sure that story isn't just some made up nonsense?"

"_I_ believe it's real." He replied, pride obvious in his voice. "My whole family does, actually. Where else would we get our name from?" He hesitated, then put something forward that made me scowl. "You know, m-maybe that guy named Sweeney who lives above your grandma's house is a ghost? You know... _his _ghost."

At my unwavering look of stubborn disbelief, he stopped and looked at me steadily. "You know... I have something to show you."

"You do?" I rose my eyebrows in a dull manner.

"Yes. Tomorrow, if you'd like. It's in town, and... um... it might boost your confidence in believing the story is real, and not made up."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at him, and he gave me a sheepish grin. "It would be a totally non-date type of outing, just to assure you."

I crossed my arms, fighting back the urge to smile back at him. His smile was sorta (as much as I hated to admit it) infectious. It didn't take me long to realize that.

I refused to give in though, and settled for an easy smirk. "Fine, Barker Boy. I'll see whatever it is you want to show me."

"Great." He perked up. "I'll - uh - I'll need your number."

"I haven't got a cell phone yet." I muttered.

"Oh," He scratched the back of his neck unsurely. "Well, I can settle for a home number."

"186 Fleet Street is _not _my home!" I snapped, causing him to jump back in alarm. "And besides, I haven't got a clue what its number is." I straightened, willing myself to calm down. "How about we meet one another outside this house tomorrow at, let's say... 9:00 A.M. sharp."

He smirked back at me. "Sounds like a plan, Lovett."

I snorted.

We came back to the kitchen, where I saw Officer Barker sitting at the head of the table. Tobit and Lucy were there too, along with Mrs. Barker.

"Valerie," Officer Barker looked up. "What a pleasure to see you again."

"Likewise," I muttered. "Now, er-"

"Derek, show Valerie out." Mrs. Barker ordered. "You know how confusing this house is to guests."

"Oh, right Mum." Derek hurriedly brushed past me and took the lead.

I took one last look at his family before we vanished around the corner, into another dark hall.

Why were Tobit and Lucy staring at me like that?

* * *

><p><em><strong>TheBrightsider - I had a feeling that would make someone's day. XD Thanks for reviewing. <strong>_

_**Oh, I have just got - like - so much to say.**_

_**This took me way too long. Mostly because I wanted it to be just perfect. This chapter is important, obviously.**_

_**Also, I got a Sweeney Todd necklace. :D You know... for anyone who cares. Wanna see?**_

_**h t t p : / / i m a g e s h a c k . u s / f / 6 9 4 / n c 5 5 0 1 1 l g . j p g /**_

_**That's just a polished picture of it though. It doesn't look THAT perfect. Maybe I'll post a picture of myself wearing it one day. Then you can see what I look like too. -_-**_

_**OH, and also, I looked up on the whole debate on whether or not Sweeney Todd was real. I'm pretty convinced that he is though. In one theory, they say that he was eventually arrested and hung for his crimes.**_

_**"The jury took 10 minutes to find him guilty and he was hanged, aged 45, on 25 January 1802 at Newgate Prison, in front of a crowd of one thousand." That is what the page that I found on it says, anyway. It's interesting. Have a look, if you hadn't already.**_

_**h t t p : / / w w w . i n d e p e n d e n t . c o . u k / n e w s / m e d i a / s w e e n e y - t o d d - f a c t - o r - f i c t i o n - 5 2 1 4 7 0 . h t m l**_

_**But the Sweeney Todd that I'm talking about in this story is the 2007 Tim Burton one. The one that died in 1846. Not to confuse with the guy who might've actually been real, who died in 1802. There **_**are _theories that he was never caught at all though. This is really something that I'd like to look further into._**

**_-end of ramble-_**

**_So, uh... this has got to be the longest author's note I've ever written at the ending to any of my chapters. I'll just cut it for now._**

_**Oh! And if you want to see a picture of Derek, you can look at my profile. I now have pictures for Valerie, Seville, and Derek. I'm working on the next few ones.**_


	15. The Most Complex Of Characters

**_Chapter 15_**

The sky still had a dark gray, fairily blue tinted, damp, gloomy feel about it. Long description, I know... but it did! It wasn't even that late, either. I was ducking my head out of reflex, waiting for it to rain. It never did.

Figures.

* * *

><p>"You're back early." Grandma remarked, looking up from the towel that she was using to wipe down the counter.<p>

"Yeah, I know." I slid into the booth, and she looked at me weirdly.

"Seville's in the parlor, you know." She told me. There was an edge to her voice.

"Thanks for telling me," I rolled my eyes. "But I thought I'd go up to see Sweeney first. He seems like better company right now."

Grandma frowned, then let go of the towel and strode across the room, coming to sit down across from me. She leaned across the table when she spoke next. "Wha' 'tis it about Mr. Todd that fascinates you so, love?"

I sat there simply blinking at her for a few moments. At my silence, she opened her mouth to speak, but I finally found the right words to reply with. "I... don't know, really. I've never met a barber quite like him. He puts up a good debate, too."

She looked bewildered now. "'Ow did yeh guess 'e was a barber?"

I was letting out the beginnings of a chuckle, thinking she was joking. But when her expression didn't change, I stopped. "Well, wasn't it apparent to _you_ the first time you saw him? You know - with the razors and all?"

She gave me an affectionate smile that, in my opinion, looked faintly somber. As I squinted, I noted a strange gleam of wetness in the corners of her eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly as I saw it.

"'E may not show it much, love," She murmured, her voice sounding as though she had just recovered from being choken up. "But I think Mr. Todd appreciates your observations."

"Huh?" I gave her a blank stare.

"Well, it's been the first time in a long time that someone'd assume 'e was a barber as a first guess."

"Well," My heartbeat quickened for a reason I somehow didn't understand, but desperately made me want to at the same time. "if they didn't think he was a barber, what was _their_ first guess?"

She froze.

I reached across the table without a second thought and placed my hand over her wrist. She flinched at my touch.

"Grandma, what's wrong?" I simply couldn't hide the concern in my voice any longer. I felt like a mere four-year-old again; Clueless, left out in the dark, and... as much as I hated to admit it, afraid.

"Nothin', dearie. Jus' go visit Mr. Todd 'fore it gets too dark." Her wrist slid out from under my hand as she stood up to walk back to the counter.

I felt sorta glum, I guess, as I left her in there.

But this feeling, for the most part, vanished as I made my way up the stairs to Sweeney's tonsorial parlor. It wasn't that I was _delighted _to go up there... but as nervous and selfconscious as Sweeney made me feel, he somehow made me feel the most sure of myself too. He talked to me like an equal. Though I knew many more insults on my young age were soon to come. That didn't mean I couldn't toss them right back his way...

Maybe I was just curious.

Heh. What more could I say, really?

* * *

><p>"Would you just come in, you irritable girl?"<p>

I jumped at Sweeney's snappy voice on the other side of the door. I grumbled under my breath; Why did I bother? Honestly...

"Sorry," I muttered as I walked in, closing the door behind me as I went. "You strike me as the kind of person who'd get unecessarily ruffled when no one cares to knock before entering."

He snorted. "I strike you as something already, then?"

I jumped when I realized he was already at my side. He was standing right next to the door, actually. I swallowed nervously before replying. "Yes, you do."

Sweeney kept his dark eyes on me the whole time in which he brushed past my arm and stood to my right. I turned in place to see what he was doing. However, after quite a lot of walking and no real destination or action, it didn't take me long to realize he was _circling_ me.

"What are you doing?" I placed my hands on my hips.

"You won't turn your back on me." He observed in a quiet tone that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I moved my arms to cross them now, stifling a sigh. Then I backed up away from him until I bumped into the chest from behind. I sat down, but Sweeney was still staring at me.

It was weird; This was the most attention he'd ever payed me since we met.

"You're odd." I murmured after a moment. I didn't feel like replying to what he originally said.

Sweeney hesitated, then took a small step towards me. Before he could go any further, I lifted my head to look straight into his eyes. "I suppose, for the most part, you being here isn't _that _strange though."

"Why?" He grunted.

"Eh," I waved it off. "Just some rumor I heard about in town today. I'm sure you've heard of it, right? People must tell you every day that this place is dangerous. I mean, you know, whenever you come downstairs."

He was looking at me with genuine confusion now. "Be a little less vague, lass."

"They say it's haunted," I added, leaning in a bit. "by a really dangerous guy that slit the throats of innocent men."

Almost immediately after I said that, Sweeney's arm flew upward, and I gasped. What happened wasn't exactly what I expected though.

He was gritting his teeth and holding his left hand in a gesture that suggested he was in pain. The razor he had obviously been holding out of my sight dropped to the wooden floor with a clatter.

"Are-are you alright?" I stood up in a flash and neared him cautiously.

"I'm fine!" He snapped.

As I looked closer, I realized his hand was bleeding.

"What happened?" I asked nervously. I then took a swift look around the room.

_Was _this place haunted? Could he have just been assaulted by the ghost?

I shook my head, scowling. Who was taking control of _my _mind, come to think of it?

Sweeney was still clutching his left hand, but he didn't reply. Frowning, I let my arms fall to my sides as I took a few careful steps toward him. When I was standing directly in front of him, I knelt down and picked up the razor he dropped. It was still gleaming silver, and perfectly in-tact... but I noticed the red liquid dripping from the blade as soon as I set my eyes upon it.

"Did you cut yourself?" I asked softly, rising back up to my full height.

Sweeney let out a low growl and grabbed it from me in a jerky motion, then turned on his heel and stalked over to the window.

Alright.

This guy was officially the most complex character I'd ever met.

Only when I heard the ripping of cloth from his direction did I approach him from behind, gradually coming to stand beside him again. He was working the razor blade under his sleeve and tearing the cloth off.

"What are you doing?" I questioned, eyeing the barbering tool warily. I realized with annoyance that this was the second time I asked that question so far.

He merely grunted; He was too set on what he was doing.

Instead of speaking anymore, I leaned up against the sloped wall and waited.

No more than a minute went by, and Sweeney rapped the pure white cloth around the cut on his hand and tied a knot to keep it in place.

I gaped at him. "You know... you could've used gauze. I could've gotten you some."

"I don't need your pitying... let alone care." He muttered.

He was currently running the blade along the rag that was hanging from his belt, ridding the silver of his blood.

"It's not pitying, nor is it care," I retorted. "It's _common sense_."

"My own common sense is enough to handle." He grumbled, lifting the razor up to view in the light of the moon that was halfway hidden in the clouds. When he was convinced that the blade looked perfect, he was unable to hide a small, brief smirk, before turning his back on the window and settling down in his chair, twirling the gorgeously sharp object in his fingers again.

Hmm... did Grandma find his attachment to these razors at all creepy? _I_ certainly did.

When he didn't speak anymore, I lowered myself down to sit, stretching my legs out in front of me and leaning my upper back against the wall, just below the window.

I had no idea that this would be my usual spot for a while.

* * *

><p>Darkness engulfed my vision for what felt like hours, but then a scene splayed out before me. It was dark, dimly lit by a firey light of some sort. The strong stench of fresh blood that hung in the air made me gag, and I gave a short bout of coughing, though I barely heard it. I didn't hear any noise caused by myself, actually. It was just the noise around me that could easily be pin-pointed.<p>

A dark, seething voice - Sweeney's voice - was carried through the dead air, playing along with the crackling chorus of flames. "You _lied _to me."

"No..." I whispered shakily. "N-no... not lied at all. No. I never lied."

_"Lucy..." _His voice cracked a bit as he sang, and it broke my heart. _"...I've come home again."_

I didn't know why I longed to reassure him so much. But I simply had to - no questions asked. "Said she took the poison, she did. Never said that she died." My voice was trembly and feeble, quite unlike my usual tone. I noted immediately that it wasn't exactly my own, either. The accent was different. It sounded an awful lot like Grandma's, actually...

The rising heat in this room was unbearable. I was really surprised I had just now noticed it, because it was undoubtfully there ever since I spawned in this strange place.

Footsteps from across the room made me turn, and I was shocked to see... was it really him?

Sweeney was knelt on the floor next to the corpse of a woman with dull, blonde hair. He was, from what I could make out, covered from head to toe in _blood._

Through the drying coat of redness that was splattered across his face and hair line, he looked positively crestfallen. Crestfallen, weak, and exhausted. His damp vest was unbuttoned all the way down, and I noticed with faint confusion that the shirt underneath was still perfectly white and unstained. His sleeves were rolled up, too.

I eyed his scarred, equally blood-splattered arms for a moment, then edged my way across the room, closer to him. I felt that I somehow understood, even though I couldn't bring up the right words to explain it back to myself.

"Mr. Todd?" Why I called him by that formal name, I hadn't a clue. It just seemed more appropriate than usual.

He didn't look up though. In fact, his head had dipped lower from the time I had decided to approach, to now. He was still focused on the woman's dead body that was lying limp at his knees.

It was like he didn't even hear me, and yet... maybe he couldn't.

Cautiously, I knelt down in front of him and looked over this woman who was now lying in between us. "Who was this?" I murmured, urging him to speak.

Sweeney still remained silent. The only thing he did in almost unconscious response was a lame, broken shiver that seemed to surge through his body, momentarily shaking him. To follow this, another pang of unexplained guilt struck me.

Carefully - afraid of perhaps scaring him - I reached over the corpse and touched his arm. He was still as cold and stiff as I remembered. Though the cold end might've been caused from all the blood; His right arm was soaked with it, straight up to his underarm and shoulder.

I was getting ready to ask another question to see if he'd reply, but just as the words were forming on my tongue, a dark figure that blended into the shadows from behind Sweeney caught my attention.

Sweeney himself didn't move a single muscle to see who was there, but I did. I let go of his arm and peered over his shoulder...

Someone was definitely there.

And surely enough, after several tormenting heartbeats, an eerily lit face appeared. I realized in alarm that it was a young boy - perhaps around my age or a little younger. His feet made no noise whatsoever as he got nearer. The whole time, he was holding hateful eyes on Sweeney.

He ignored me.

When I finally got a good look at him, I noticed that his clothing was just as old-fashioned as Sweeney's was.

I narrowed my eyes at him, and he turned away from us to pick something up off the floor.

As if a sudden thought came to his attention, Sweeney scooped the woman's corpse in his arms. It was the most abrupt motion I'd seen from him so far. But even so, he still didn't look back.

When the boy straightened up again, I recongnized the gleaming chased silver of a straight razor immediately.

I watched the scene play out before me in mere confusion now, leaning back on my hands. But... when the blade came to rest at the barber's throat, I bolted upright.

"What are you _doing?" _I exclaimed, gaping at the boy.

However, just as the blade slid across Sweeney's throat, I had no time to see the blood.

Because everything went black instead.

* * *

><p><strong><em>xSilentDawnx - Thanks for reviewing ^^ Oh, and if you didn't get my PM, I got the necklace over Amazon! <em>**

**_Okay, I was honestly thinking of getting closer to finishing the next chapter before I released this one, so's you guys wouldn't have to hang for too long..._**

**_But I was really anxious to release it, just because I had so much fun writing it. :D_**

**_I think, for the most part, my inspiration is back! (I know I shouldn't say that, because it'll just disappear again XD)_**

**_Oh, and just so no one gets confused... the reason why Sweeney's hand started bleeding was because, after Valerie mentioned what she did, his hand sorta... spazzed out on him, because he was gripping the razor too hard. Lol. I don't know why I find that funny. Probably because Sweeney rarely ever gets that edgy._**

**_And also, if you already guessed, _yes_, Valerie is having another vision at the end there. I won't say anymore than that._**

**_-Subject switch-_**

**_I went to go see _The Lion King 3D _today. Good show. The 3D was used perfectly, by the way. :) But I vowed I'd work on this chapter as soon as I got home. And sure, I wasn't exactly sucessful with staying true to that vow, because I _did _slack off a bit at first._**

**_But then, once I got going, I was on a roll._**

**_I think every author on here knows just how great of a feeling that is. *_*_**


	16. Anonymous Monument

**_Chapter 16_**

"Wha' d'ya mean she won' wake up?"

"She won't wake up. Can I get any clearer?"

"Uh...hm?" I blinked my eyes open, and I was momentarily blinded by morning light that beamed in through the large barbershop window.

When I finally got my vision focused, I realized I was sitting in Sweeney's chair.

Grandma was knelt in front of the chair, staring at me with concern in her eyes. A few feet behind her, Sweeney was standing with his arms crossed, an ever-contemptuous glare on his face. He looked just as scornful as when I last left him.

"Mm..w-what happened?" I croaked, giving my head a gentle shake.

"You fell asleep in 'ere, love," Grandma told me, a small smile playing on her lips the moment my voice reached her ears. "Mr. T tried wakin' yeh, but yeh weren't breathin'."

Suddenly, I felt wide awake. "I wasn't breathing?"

"Apparently not," She shrugged, then pulled me into a hug. "But you're okay now, eh?"

I gave a small nod over her shoulder, then glanced up at Sweeney. He was staring straight back at me, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

_He senses my uneasiness. _I realized, feeling rather numb now.

"Seville's been worried, too," Grandma went on as she finally pulled away from me. "_But_," She turned a stern glare on Sweeney. "'e was too afraid to show up 'ere. I wonder why..."

Sweeney snorted.

After Grandma took a few steps back, I stood up on wobbly legs. I was about to fall, but I saved myself by grabbing hold of the chair's armrest.

Then I felt it:

Long, straight, heightened bumps running along the leather of the seat. I looked down in alarm, and I remembered immediately... the streaks... they were _red_...

_Blood._

I gave a shriek of shock and fell backwards, unable to hold onto the chair this time. I went falling to the floor, followed by Grandma's warning yell and Sweeney's... silence?

Just as I was about to hit the creaky-panneled floor, a strong pair of hands caught me under the arms and sharply pulled me upright again.

"What's the matter with you?" Sweeney's scathing voice hissed in my ear.

As soon as he let go of me, I jerked away, scared now. "N-nothing."

How the hell did he get to me that fast anyway?

Grandma gave us both another somber smile, then brushed past Sweeney, making sure to pat him on the arm in another secret gesture that I hadn't a clue about. She then made for the door. "I'll let Sev know you're doin' well, Val."

"Okay." I watched after her, but soon found myself daydreaming long after the door had closed behind her.

Sweeney grumbled something under his breath when all was silent again - I _still _couldn't hear it, even if I _could_ hear a pin drop.

He walked out from behind me and paused on the other side of the chair, running his pale hand along the right armrest. His dark eyes were perfectly focused.

"Don't mistake the stains for an accident." He muttered lowly.

"What?" I looked up.

"It isn't blood." He explained. He finally looked at me, his expression surprisingly level despite my growing suspicions.

"Are you sure?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Why would I lie?"

I swallowed nervously, then began playing with a strand of my curly hair without even realizing. "I... don't know... erm..."

Sweeney brought his hands away from the chair, then lifted his left one to view the red-stained cloth that was still rapped around it. He observed it for a few heartbeats, then brought it down again. "I'd never strike an artery, not on accident, nor on purpose. I'd never." His voice sounded as dark as the very thought.

I fought back the urge to take a step back, suddenly uncomfortable with being here.

That story that Derek told me yesterday popped into my head suddenly.

It _couldn't _be true.

_Why would he even _think_ about doing that then? _I argued silently. _No normal barber would have _slitting peoples' throats_ on the brain, even if they didn't have intentions of really doing it._

"Valerie?" Sweeney's rough voice broke its way into my thoughts, and I looked back up at him. I didn't even realize it drooped down in thought in the first place.

"Huh?"

He had a roguish gleam in his eyes. "I wouldn't zone out if I were you," He tilted his head back a bit as he went on, giving a momentary pause. "...Come to think of it... I _would_, considering the circumstances."

"The circumstances of _what_?" I demanded; I wasn't used to him sounding so thoughtful.

"Lovett's," He nearly snapped out the name, and a faint glare was etching its way across his features again. "_I _can zone out on them. _They _can't zone out on me."

"I... I don't understand." I mumbled.

Right before Sweeney brought his head downward again, I noticed something: The pale, chalk-white skin on his throat... it didn't look exactly... settled, if that makes any sense. As I squinted, I spotted a barely noticable, thin line of pure white that stretched across the front of his neck. It looked like - if I wasn't mistaken - a _scar._

Before I could examine it any further, Sweeney turned away in a swift motion and faced the window. His hand flicked towards his holster the moment his eyes settled on whatever it was he was seeing.

I hurriedly rushed to his side. "What is it?"

"What is that vermin doing here?" Sweeney growled.

Just in front of the shop, I saw a familiar face.

A _very _familiar face...

Then I gasped. "Derek!" I had to go with him today! I must've been late! "Wait," I turned to Sweeney, confused. "You know him?"

"He _looks_ annoying," Sweeney replied dully. "Is that enough?"

For some reason, I laughed, deciding to ignore the strange bit of edge that was tinged into his voice. And though it was just as barely noticable as the scar across his throat, I could've sworn Sweeney gave a small, half smile at the sound of it.

"Or exceptionally contemptible," I suggested, once again priding myself in that huge vocabulary of mine. "_I _know," I added, bumping my arm against his. "_I've_ met him."

I stood leaning against him for a moment, forgetting exactly who it was I was dealing with. Sweeney shifted around uncomfortably, then cleared his throat pointedly in order to get my attention. It was then that I realized the closeness of this movement, and I hesitantly moved out of his personal space, my smile faltering.

"Sorry." I muttered.

Sweeney just snorted and lifted his good hand to dust off his vest in a distasteful manner. My confidence returned at the notion that he wasn't going to hurt me, and I placed my hands on my hips.

"I forgot: We made a silent agreement to be strictly acquaintances." I stated cockily.

"Yes, well," Sweeney grunted and turned his back on the window, only sparing me a side glance. "Don't push your luck, lass. I can't tell you how many times I've considered demoting you to stranger."

He sat down in his chair and propped his elbow on the stained armrest, then buried his forehead into the palm of his hand.

"I'm _not_ a stranger to you, then?" I questioned.

"Of course you are," He muttered jerkily, a low growl to his voice. He didn't even look up at me. "But you haven't ceased to let me learn about you since we met."

"Yes, but you just said you were thinking of _demoting _me to stranger... which is totally mean, by the way."

"Forget I said anything. I thought _I _was the one who thought too much." He glared into his hand.

I returned this look of anger immediately after he said that. "Well, I'm sorry for acting like I'm not completely stupid."

"Why do you apologize?" He inquired, finally lifting his head to eye me steadily.

"You just talked about it like it was a bad thing." I answered, irritation swelling in my chest.

"You mustn't apologize for anything," Sweeney's eyes flashed with sudden fury. "And especially not for a gift. The latter will get you nowhere."

Ugh! This guy was so friggin' _confusing_!

Sweeney shook his head and rested his head into his hand again, then motioned out the window with his injured one. "I think your friend is starting to get impatient..."

I glared daggers at him.

He just... _really_ pissed me off sometimes, even if I didn't know why.

Sneering, I spun around without another word and yanked the door open.

I was out in a flash.

* * *

><p>As I was walking down the stairs, I spotted Grandma come from the side door. She looked concerned.<p>

"Val? What's wrong? Why d'yeh look so angry?"

"Why is _he _so angry?" I snapped, far harsher than I had intended. "What's _his _problem?"

"Wha' did 'e say to yeh, love? I'll sort 'im out." Grandma casted the door above us a stern look.

"No, that's okay." I reassured her. "Oh, and is Derek still out there?"

"Righ' inside." She smiled, then walked straight past me and up the stairs.

"Hey, wait," I looked up at her. "I just said it's okay."

"Yes, well, I think I needed to speak with 'im 'bout some other matters any'ow. You jus' go 'ave fun with your friend, love."

I frowned, but decided to obey for the best. I came to the side door and pulled it open.

Immediately, I spotted Seville leaning against the threshold of the parlor, in conversation with Derek who was sitting at the booth.

And speaking of Derek, he was looking around warily. At the sight of me, he bolted up from where he sat.

"Valerie!" He exclaimed, relief obvious in his voice.

"Yeah?" I rose an eyebrow at him as I approached.

"_So_, Val," Seville started up, a jeer hanging in his words. "Your little _friend_ here says that this place is _haunted_ by the ghost of a _murderer_." He looked good-humored at this notion, but I only frowned.

_Yeah, and it just might be true!  
><em>

"You told him, Barker Boy?" I gazed at Derek expectantly.

"Only to warn." He mumbled.

"So, is _this_ why you're so afraid of Sweeney?" I asked Seville, turning to him.

He froze, as did Derek. "Wh-what?"

"Well, the murderer's name was Sweeney Todd." I pointed out, figuring Derek hadn't told him the name yet. "It's terribly coincidental, isn't it?"

Derek gulped.

Seville only stared.

"It's okay," I told my brother. "I don't believe it either."

"Uh... yeah." He looked fairily relieved.

"Which is funny," A smirk replaced my reassuring expression, and I flashed it on Derek. "Because _I _found red stains on the barbering chair upstairs."

He gaped at me. "_No way_."

"Oh, I'm not lying."

"What from, d'you think?" Seville whispered.

"Ah," I waved it off. "Probably some kind of sauce spill, or something."

"Don't be too sure," Derek narrowed his eyes. "What did this _Sweeney _have to say about it?"

"He told me it wasn't blood." I replied smoothly.

"Oh, well, that's promising." Derek snorted.

"Hey," I jabbed him in the shoulder. Hard. "If you ever want to start calling me "Val", you're gonna have to show a little more respect for me. Got it?"

He flinched, still glaring. But after a moment, he straightened and stared at me right in the eye. "Okay. But did your grandmother ever tell you anything about him?"

"No." I muttered. "The last time I was here, I was four years old. I heard pacing coming from the ceiling at night. She told me it was rats, but it turned out it was really..." I paused.

Wait...

_She told me a barber _used _to live up there when the pacing was sounding off! _

"Sev," I turned to my brother who was standing with his arms crossed. "You don't suppose that room up there _is _haunted... do you?"

"And Mr. Todd never complained about getting assaulted by a killer?" Seville demanded, breaking his arms apart to form fists at both his sides. "If Grandma knows about this, she'd never let you up there, Val." He sighed stressfully, then added, "She cares about Mr. Todd, too. She'd never let him stay up there either if she thought he'd get hurt."

While Seville and I were exchanging puzzled looks, Derek was currently looking for a place to wedge his way into the debate. "Um..."

"What?" We both said in unison, turning to him.

"Do either of you have it made clear yet that you're throwing around Sweeney Todd's name like it's nothing? He's the _Demon Barber of Fleet Street. _He could snap your windpipe in half with a flick of his wrist! He kills in a second - and ten if he feels like making it painful!"

"Maybe Sweeney was named after the murderer." I suggested.

"Who'd name their kid after a murderer?" Seville rolled his eyes.

"Guys, _seriously_! If he were here right now, he'd kill all three of us!" Derek insisted.

"When Grandma said a barber _used _to live here a while ago, she must've meant like... back in 1997, or something." I tried to work this all out aloud. "But the ghost of the killer would've been here since 1846 - the year he died. But the Sweeney that I was talking to just a few minutes ago obviously came back _since _2000-whatever. Recently. Why didn't Grandma tell us, just to let us know?"

"Ugh!" Derek exclaimed. "Are you two listening to yourselves?"

We jumped at his heightened tone, then stared at him in silence, prompting him.

Derek was moving his eyes back and forth from Seville to myself, as if choosing who to address first.

He chose me.

Of course.

"Valerie," He crossed his arms, his expression dead serious. "I think you really should consider the fact that the guy you were just talking to upstairs might've been a ghost."

I snorted. "Look, I _do _believe in ghosts. And from knowing so much about them, I can easily say that Sweeney is not one."

"How do you know?"

"There are just some signs of the paranormal that _just aren't _showing up. He's not a ghost. I promise." I said firmly. "And besides, even if he _was _a ghost - he's not the ghost of a killer. He's..." I tilted my head a bit, wondering exactly what I should say about the barber. "...He's sorta nice, in a gruff, rude sort of way."

"Rude is the opposing word for nice, Lovett." Derek pointed out.

"Actually, it isn't. _Kind _is the opposing word for rude. _Mean _is the opposing word for nice." I snapped. "I should know; You're talking to the girl who knows what antiestablishmentarianism means!"

"Wha..?" He gave me a blank stare, and I tossed my head back, groaning.

"Let's just go, shall we?" I strode past him but paused when I threw the door open to look back at Seville. "Are you coming, bro?"

"Where are we going?" Seville muttered, taking a hesitant step forward.

"A monument of a sort, I suppose you could say." Derek replied sleekly, then brushed past me through the threshold and took the lead. "What d'you say?"

I strolled on outside, then looked back at Seville.

"That's alright," Seville grabbed for the door. "I need to stay here with Grandma."

"Do you really believe that story, Sev?" I demanded.

"No," He glared at me. "But whether Mr. Todd is the murderer or not, I either way have a bad feeling about him. It's just something you wouldn't understand."

I shook my head at him, showing my disaprovement before parting. I heard the door slam shut from behind as Derek and I began walking.

* * *

><p>"A cemetary? Why?"<p>

We were, indeed, nearing a large field of grass, full of tombstones. A large, black, fancy fence surrounded it.

We had walked through town, a little ways further from Fleet Street.

I never knew there was a cemetary anywhere near, truth be told.

Was it connected with Hyde Park?

"Because what I want to show you is in there," Derek finally replied, grabbing hold of one of the smooth, black bars that made up the fence. "But they haven't opened yet."

"I was late to meet you," I said. "Did you expect we'd just sit around for an even longer amount of time, waiting for the gates to be opened?"

Derek sat in the tall mound of heightened grass beside the fence and smirked up at me. "We still can."

Rolling my eyes, I settled down beside him. I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on top of them.

We sat in silence.

That was, until Derek broke it, "You never answered me, you know?"

"What?" I turned my head a bit to look at him.

"As to why you're here." He explained.

"I told you it wasn't any of your business." I looked away, my voice bitter.

The dawn breeze played with the long, curly strands of my hair that were thrown over my shoulders. It brought back memories of home; Sitting on the front porch in the very early morning with Seville, cherishing the silent, motionless street for as long as we could until cars would start passing by...

The sky was a milky shade of blue, with a faint, golden haze to form the little horizon I could see beyond all the buildings in front of us. The cemetary was a little ways off - you'd have to drive off the road to get there.

You could definitely call it as something I'd perfer.

"Well, you're here with me. You could at least tell me why." Derek stated.

I rolled my eyes again. "Look, I'm not telling you for your own good. Lives that suck certainly aren't for the faint of heart."

"What?" He gaped at me.

I paused, my mouth hanging open with no words coming out.

Where did _that_ come from?

Willing myself to hush up, I leaned my back against the fence and didn't speak again. Luckily for him, Derek remained silent too and did the same.

Some time later, I felt Derek shift around from beside me. I looked up from my lap and saw that his attention was now on the gate just further down the fence; It was opening.

"Come on." Derek pushed up from the ground, and I followed suit.

As we neared the now-opened gate, we spotted a brauny security guard standing there. Just as I was casually strolling past him, Derek had already grabbed me by the back of the shirt collar and yanked me back.

The choking noise which escaped my mouth was overlapped by the guard's rough voice (of course, no one's voice could ever get as rough as Sweeney's!). "What are a couple of kids like you two planning on doing in a cemetary - stand on monuments, kick down stones, step on flowers, steal things?"

"Why would we do that?" Derek gasped.

I only smirked. "Yeah? Why so serious?"

Derek shot me a warning glare, then turned back to the guard. "We've only come to pay our respects, sir."

"Where are your parents?" He demanded.

Resentment was rising in me again. "_His _parents live nearby." I informed him in a blunt tone of voice. "Come on, Derek." I grabbed Derek by the wrist and dragged him past the gates with me. The guard made no move to stop us this time, but I still felt his suspicious eyes following after us.

Puh. Everyone has a problem these days, I tell you.

Derek led me through the yard, past tombstones and monuments. I honestly didn't understand what people found so creepy about graveyards. I found them to be oddly peaceful... or at least in the day.

When we reached the very outskirts of the cemetary, I guessed Derek was lost, even though he hadn't been talking this whole way. My legs felt as though they were getting ready to fall off (lazy for a twelve-year-old, much?).

However, Derek surprised me by stopping by the back gate, next to an oak tree. As I looked over the gate, I saw fields of grass to spread on before I spotted more civilization and buildings in the distance. Many more cars were passing on the road beyond this park.

Backing up a bit, my head touched an overhanging branch, and I ducked down. Derek was circling the tree for some reason. I crouched nearer to him and stared in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"We're here," He told me matter-of-factly, not stopping in his apparent search for something. "I've just got to find..." His words trailed off, and he reached out with both hands to run them along the trunk of the tree, his eyes narrowed.

Sighing, I took a step back and looked up into the sky, squinting. The sun was starting to come out. That was surprising.

Today would definitely be warmer than usual for a change.

"Ah... I-I think this is it." Derek whispered, gradually letting his legs fall out from under him, so's he was now sitting.

After a moment of brief hesitance, I sat down beside him, ignoring the sun that was now at our backs. We were sitting in the shade of the tree.

He stared at the trunk.

I stared too.

"...What are we staring at?" I muttered, raising an eyebrow.

"Look," He murmured patiently, pointing at a certain spot on the bark. He traced something with his fingers. "D'you see it?"

"See what?" I leaned in.

My nose was just about to touch the trunk when I noticed something.

There was some sort of carving in the bark. I focused on it, and I soon realized these strange carvings were _words._

"Can you read what it says?" Derek asked.

"No. Can you?" I shrugged.

"Look really hard." He urged.

Stifling a groan, I once again peered at the trunk. It was hard to read what it said. There was no marker or paint to go into the dents, making the words clearer. It looked as though someone had simply dug into it without the intention of making it easy for others to read.

Just as I was getting ready to give up again, my eyes stretched wide. The last examinings somehow got to my head.

I _saw_ this time, and I felt Derek freeze and hold in breath at the way in which I stiffened when I finally realized.

_Benjamin Barker _

_1802 - 1846_

_Lucy Barker_

_1804 - 1846_

"They... they aren't buried... _here_... are they?" I stammered, taking a wary glance down to the ground in which I was now sitting on.

Derek shook his head. "Nah, they aren't. No one really knows what happened to the bodies," He tilted his head a bit as he went on. "But then again... no one in modern-day time has ever went down into the bakehouse after the incident. And everyone who eventually _did _back then isn't alive now to report what they saw, or what they did with the bodies. The only real fact is that... Mr. _Todd _looked to have bled from the throat when he was found."

"Who did this?" I whispered, still eyeing the tombstone-like carvings in the trunk.

"Beats me." He shrugged.

"Why do you think they did it? And why couldn't they get a real tombstone for it instead?"

"Who'd pay for it?" Derek countered.

"So..." I shook my head, still not fully understanding. "...people around here are actually willing to write down records in public about stuff that might not even be true?"

"Okay - _first_, it _is _true. And _two_, we aren't really in public. See?" Derek motioned out behind us. I saw what I almost forgot about: Fields of grass and hills, with no people in sight.

"Alright, fine..." I turned back around. "So..."

"By the looks of it," Derek cut me off and touched the carvings again. "it looks to have been done with a pocket knife."

"How can you tell?"

"It's really neat." He looked perplexed now. "Whoever did it did it with care and patience - that's for sure."

I nodded, but I didn't speak much more after that.

We only observed for a little while longer, then we got up and trekked back the way we came.

"You _do _know where you're going, right?" I checked.

"Of course! I've been here dozens of times." Derek exclaimed.

"Why?" What he just said sounded sorta... creepy.

"Oh... er... no reason." He picked up the pace, and I was forced to follow without question.

Pfft. If I had known the way out, I wouldn't have.

What else could I do?

* * *

><p><strong><em>Well, it's not really so much of a cliffhanger this time, right? :3<em>**

**_Poor Valerie. She thinks her life sucks._**

**_If I ever leaned on Sweeney Todd's arm for more than five seconds (and lived), I'd consider myself a winner. :)_**

_**So yeah. Go, Valerie, go!**_

_**Now - ahem - if anyone's wondering, no, there is no written proof on Tim Burton's **_**Sweeney Todd**_** that Sweeney was born in 1802. That's just my theory.**_


	17. Who's That?

**_Chapter 17_**

Derek and I were turning back onto Fleet Street.

"So... that was fun." He commented.

Snorting, I shoved my hands into my jean pockets. Could I deny for a little while longer that this kid (who was one year older than me, therefore I should never have been calling him "kid" in the first place) was starting to work his way onto my good side?

Derek took another inhale, as if getting ready to speak again, but was cut off abruptly. I looked up from staring down at my shoes and saw that he had stopped in motion, and was staring at something down the road.

I followed his gaze.

A police car was parked outside the shop.

"Come on; That must be your dad." I told Derek, then sped off down the cobblestone street. He bolted after me.

Grandma and Seville were both standing outside now. They looked concerned. At my approach, Grandma's eyes caught onto me, and she immediately grabbed me by the arm when I got close enough to pull me onto her other side. She ignored (or didn't even notice) Derek's presence.

"What's going on?" I asked nervously.

As I looked through the police car's window, I felt like stamping my foot in frustration when I saw Officer Rhenny on the other side.

God, would this guy just leave us alone?

I knew it was his job and stuff... but seriously.

It seemed like Derek's father and Rhenny switched off for each visit - puh, how serious were they planning on taking us?

"I'm afraid there's still no sign of your son, Mrs. Lovett," Officer Rhenny informed Grandma. "Nor of your daughter-in-law."

"Well, this is stupid," I stated plainly. "What the Hell are you planning on doing now?"

Derek cringed.

"Valerie," Grandma glared at me sternly. "_Language_."

"We're not stopping," Rhenny seemed to be recoiling from shooting back a snarky reply, being in the precence of my grandmother and all. "We're just unsure."

"Unsure? Of what - whether or not they're dead?" I placed my hands on my hips. "You know, I currently have the right mind to go out and search for them myself."

"Do you, now?" Officer Rhenny gave me a smug look. "I'd always be at your service."

"Oh, that's quite alright," I lifted my chin. "I wouldn't need it."

"Val, what are you saying?" Seville murmured in my ear, disbelief obvious in his voice.

"Could be fun." I shrugged.

Grandma shook her head, holding her glare. "Thank yeh for the update, officer."

"Yeah. What an update..." I muttered under my breath.

Rhenny most likely didn't hear me, because he curtly tipped his hat to each of us before leaving.

Grandma gave me a passing glare as she retreated back into the shop in silence.

That left Seville, Derek, and I.

"So, are you leaving, or what?" I asked Derek, turning to him.

"D'you want me to stay?" He tilted his head.

I snorted. "Well, if you have to be somewhere..."

The way he questioned my opinion all the time was starting to miff me a bit, and I honestly had plans to return to the barbershop soon. It wasn't necessarily that I wanted to speak with Sweeney. Well... I _didn't_. But for some reason, I felt I had to.

Pity for the man was something that overtook me at the best of times, to my dismay.

"Er... Mum is expecting me back, actually." Derek took a cautious look over his shoulder.

"Alright - off with you then." I waved him off, but he didn't move.

"I wouldn't mind coming over again." He put forward.

Seville rolled his eyes.

_Yeah, okay, Barker. Invite yourself over. See if I care._

"I wouldn't mind either." I muttered.

_Wait, where did that come from?_

"I'll ask my Dad about your parents every day, if you'd like." Derek offered.

"That'd help." Seville shrugged, and I nodded.

"Thanks." I sighed.

Derek smiled at us both. He then turned around without another word and ran down the street.

Seville leaned in closer to me as soon as Derek was out of sight. "What do you plan to do?" He murmured.

I backed away from him and talked over my shoulder as I approached the fence. "I plan to go upstairs. I..."

I'd almost forgotten to tell him!

"Hey, Seville," I turned right back around, straying from the fence that surrounded the courtyard. "Do you know what Derek had to show me?"

"No. What?" He questioned.

"Someone carved Sweeney Todd's and his wife's - Lucy Barker's - names into a tree trunk. The year they were born in, and the year they died. It was... freaky. They both died on the same year."

"Well, obviously," Seville stated. "They did, because of that story. Why does everyone around this street care so much?"

"I think it's what they were raised to believe in, like a religion." I admitted my idea.

"So, you think there's some kind of bible-like book that has to do with this Sweeney Todd criminal?" Seville's words were slow, like he was trying to work this out.

I liked that he was taking so much time out to actually behave normally again. But in another sense, it sounded an awful lot like he was trying to make something clear to a kid much lower below my age.

It was kind of annoying then, too.

"I don't know, Sev," I confessed wearily. "But... after seeing that red... stuff... on the chair upstairs, I think this may just be more real than we think. I'll... I'll see you later. I'm going upstairs."

Seville looked a little concerned at the last glimpse I got of him. When I climbed over the fence, not feeling like passing Grandma on my way up, and I hurried up the stairs, I turned around and looked over the railing. Seville wasn't on the street anymore - he went back in.

I didn't bother to knock this time. I just opened the door and walked in.

Silence greeted my aching head, and I almost smiled.

Had I really missed it?

Sweeney was positioned in the shadows again, hiding from my view. I crossed my arms, smirking. Then I broke one arm apart to point at him as I spoke (because I totally knew he could see me), "Don't mock me today. I don't feel like thinking right now."

"...A rare occasion." He remarked, not even looking up from whatever it was he was doing. I could see a silver gleam through the darkness, so I immediately assumed he was sharpening a razor.

"Now would be as good of a time as any for one to set up an ambush. Correct?" He added when I didn't say anything.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I leaned against the wall, self-consciously rapping my arms around myself.

Sweeney stepped from the shadowed part of the room quicker than I had expected him to. He gripped a sheathed razor at his side, and when he reached the wooden box on the window sill, he placed it in next to - what I guessed would be - others.

"I spoke." I informed him. My words were dull, nearly indifferent, though not quite.

"I'm aware. You're just impatient." The irritation in his voice didn't surprise me.

"Well, I'll have you know I've been praised for my patience long before I ever met _you_," I shot back. "By people who are, unbelievably, older than _you_!"

"_Unbelievably_?" He questioned, turning around to a full and raising his eyebrows. "Is poking fun at my age much more mature than what you're implying?"

I fought back the urge to smile. "No. I try not to offend people. I _do _tend to make points though."

"As do I. Offending people is merely something I wouldn't quite put past myself," He snorted ill-humoredly. "I wouldn't put it past you either, come to think of it."

"Did I offend you?" I rose my hand to my mouth in hopes to hold in the small laugh that was threatening to escape.

"I'm afraid, lass, that no being deserves the cruel pleasure of humiliating me. For as long as I've remembered, it's never been aloud." This acrimonious statement of his caught me off-guard; There he goes with the "world is pitch black" rant again.

I frowned. "Never been aloud? What happened to the people who really got to you?"

"_No one_ has ever got to me." He retorted.

"I'll bet it was a while ago," I guessed. "Right?"

"It was never!" He snapped. "And if you sincerely strive to keep from offending those around you, I'd suggest you drop the subject before I make you."

Glaring, I crossed my arms and decided to stay silent for a while.

It was only then that his words had sunk in: Before I _make _you.

Before I make you? What did that mean?

I looked back up at him cautiously. He had his back to me again, and was doing absolutely nothing as he looked out the window.

I slumped down lower against the wall, sitting on the handy chest (that I, as I thought about it, had never even looked in yet) beside the door. "So, depending on whether or not you'll answer by first getting the answer _on _whether or not this is a touchy subject..."

"What is it?" He grumbled.

"Do you believe in the rumors about this room?" I blurted, not being able to hold it in a second longer.

"What?" He looked over his shoulder, and I flinched under his bewildered glare.

"About the barber who murdered men and baked them into pies." I prompted.

Sweeney remained perfectly still for a few heartbeats, as if he had momentarily forgotten how to move. Just as he seemed to find his bearings again, he muttered something under his breath that sounded, eerily, a lot like, "_Mrs. Lovett_ baked them into pies..."

"Pardon?" I strained my voice to hide a fearful squeak that nearly weaved itself through my tone.

"Don't give the barber all the credit." Sweeney growled.

"Huh?"

"Don't give the barber all the credit," He repeated. "As much as Nellie Lovett was a lying wench who didn't deserve to live, she provided a roof over his head to slaughter his victims under."

I seriously felt like I was going to puke again, but I held it in to ask weakly, "What.. what are you getting at, exactly?"

"Yes. I believe in these so-called _rumors. _Who told you?" His voice was tart, and full of contempt. "Did this thick-headed person call me a ghost, too?"

My eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah. That's exactly what he said."

"Who's "he"?"

"Derek Barker. The kid you said looked annoying." I replied.

Sweeney shook his head in a disgusted manner. "This town should stop making such a bloody big deal about Benjamin Barker's story. It happened - and thank God - it's over. Why not let him and his wife rest in peace?"

"It's a great horror movie idea, you have to admit." I joked.

That earned me the death glare.

"Look: It's understandable that you'd get pestered after a while. Going under the same name as a murderer from another century must not be the most ideal life," I finally got up off the chest and walked over to stand beside him. "But if it gets on your nerves so much, why don't you just change your name?"

Sweeney clenched his fists. I could tell he was frantically, but silently debating on something.

"I could never do that." He faltered.

His left hand was trembling; The wound hadn't healed enough, and forming a fist was probably painful. But his distant expression told me that he wouldn't think to realize the source of the pain any time soon.

After a breathy exhale, I grabbed his hand in my two much smaller ones and undid his fist, which came apart surprisingly easily. "Don't put any pressure on it until it's healed." I ordered gently.

Sweeney didn't move his head much at all, but his dark eyes slid from their view on the window to peer down at me. He obviously just regained consciousness again.

So focused on his expression, I hadn't realized I was still holding his hand. Hurriedly, I released it, afraid he might overreact to this caring gesture.

However, Sweeney put more of his own care forth to cradle his left hand with his right, seeming to have just remembered the injury. He gave me a curt nod; There was the tiniest amount of gratitude on his face, like a silent thanks. Though he never _said_ thank you, he didn't really need to after that... nor did I plan on asking it of him.

* * *

><p>It was getting late, so I bid farewell to Sweeney for the night and headed back downstairs. I was getting tired; The fresh air from the long walk to the cemetary and back - not to mention the seemingly <em>longer <em>walk _across _the cemetary - had sort of been getting to me since I came back to the house. It'd be nice to lay down.

When I walked into the parlor, Seville was already sprawled on the couch. Grandma was nowhere in sight, and when I asked Seville, he told me she had gone to sleep. I didn't even question my brother about the sleeping formation tonight. I just laid down on the floor in silence, and I quickly drifted off.

* * *

><p>I woke up on hard, wooden flooring. The muffled sound of voices made me lift my head.<p>

I was back in Sweeney's shop.

Everything was the same from just moments ago. The only difference made was that Sweeney wasn't there.

I looked up at the large window: It looked to be around dawn - sometime in the morning.

How had I ended up here?

Then, just as I was struggling to sit upright, the door was swung open. The bell flew off the top and landed with a clang on the floor. I nearly had to dodge getting hit by it.

"I said I was sorry, I did!"

Sweeney walked in. He had a large, white dressing of some sort rapped around his neck. And above all, he looked pissed. _Beyond _pissed. I'd never seen him look so angry. He strode right past me as if I wasn't even there and gripped the side of the sloped window, as if he'd fall without it there.

From behind him, a girl who looked to be in her late teens came running in. She had curly, dark red hair, that was up in messy bunches. She wore a plain, white t-shirt that read _Cameron Rules! _on the front, and a pair of baggy jeans. Her skin was - shockingly enough - the same exact tone as mine.

"Come on - why're yeh gettin' so worked up over this?" Her Cockney accent took me by surprise.

Just like Grandma's...

She stood with her arms crossed, and she was tapping her foot expectantly as she stared at Sweeney.

She didn't even notice me.

Was this another freaky dream of mine?

If it was, I sincerely hoped it didn't end as badly as the last one.

Sweeney remained silent for a moment, as if he was contemplating his options for the problem at hand. Then he turned around to face the girl, his expression carrying a mix of anger and grief. The redness under his dark eyes seemed more visible than ever. "It's not something you need to know. Get out. _Now. _Don't ask if I care whether you come back, because I don't. I don't care if I never see you again. Just leave me." His voice shook.

The girl frowned helplessly. "It was a _mistake_, for one thing. Cresenta didn't think-"

"Oh, you found out her name too, did you?" Sweeney snapped. "I don't see where her name would come into good use again unless she was able to undo what's been done!"

"I'll find a way to undo what's been done," The girl shot back firmly. "if that's what yeh want!"

"It is." Sweeney confirmed. He then approached her with a hard glare, grabbing a razor blade from his holster. He flashed it out and placed it dangerously close to her throat. "But until you do, leave me to suffer in here. It's what I've always deserved."

"Oh, so you're not gonna eat or drink anythin'?" The girl demanded, placing her hands on her hips.

My heart missed a beat at the striking resemblance to that of Grandma and I when she did that.

"I haven't eaten or drank anything for _months_," Sweeney hissed. "What's another few?" He pushed away from her and kept his glare pinned on the floor. "Now... I'd appreciate it ever so much if you'd _leave_. It'll most likely be the only further good you'll be doing."

The girl's face fell completely, and she turned away to head for the door. "Yes, sir..."

When she finally left, closing the door behind her, Sweeney looked back over his shoulder with a fairily guilty look in his eyes. He sighed.

"I thought I'd be joining you, Lucy," He murmured, staggering over to the chair to sit down. "But I guess I was wrong."

* * *

><p>Blackness.<p>

Then I blinked open my eyes.

I was still laying on the floor of the parlor. It was still nighttime.

Seville was fast asleep on the couch. The pacing above my head was still every bit there.

What I just experienced _was _another dream.

Not to mention the weirdest one yet.

And I couldn't seem to get out of my head just how much that girl looked - oddly enough - like Grandma...

* * *

><p><em><strong>If there are any mispellings in this, feel free to point them out to me. I was rather tired when writing the whole rest of this - still am. I do feel that this whole chapter was somewhat choppy, but please tell me what you think. :)<strong>_

_**So, yes... this was probably my favorite exchange between Sweeney and Valerie so far. I really enjoyed writing this bit between the two of them.**_

_**Oh, and don't worry, that very last scene between Sweeney and that nameless girl will be revealed soon too.**_


	18. The Truth Sorta Sucks

**_Chapter 18_**

I woke the next day to complete silence, and relief gripped me; I had obviously fallen back asleep after waking up from that weird dream just the night before. That was good, considering I wasn't particulary fond of those dreams. They were either creepy, or downright confusing. Both those words of description were, in my opinion, just as negative as words like "scary" and "angry".

On top of that, I didn't remember having any more dreams after I fell back asleep. _Twice _as good, eh?

Now feeling much perkier than yesterday, I got up off the floor and looked over to where Seville was still lying. Still sleeping, too.

The sound of shoes shuffling against dull, long-worned-down marble flooring came to my attention as well; Grandma was in the shop... again.

I sighed and headed for the threshold. I didn't know how we were at the moment, what with our little disagreement the day before.

As I entered, however, Grandma looked to be making something with a bowl full of batter and a spoon in her usual, cheerfully brisk manner.

"Hey," I leaned against the counter, watching what she was doing. "What are you making?"

"Pie." She replied simply, squinting as she peered into the bowl.

Okay. Yeah. I was wrong; _Now _shit was starting to get _real_!

"Oh, uh... w-what kind?" I stammered.

"Apple pie." She blinked at me in concern. "Why, love?"

"No reason." I breathed with relief. "Just - you know - curious." I tilted my head. "Why didn't you leave baking a pie for tonight? Breakfast comes first."

Thinking she'd get irritated with me for talking to her like she was stupid made me cringe when I realized what I just said, but she didn't look at all irritable.

She smiled thoughtfully. "Since Seville ain't up yet, 'ow 'bout you settle for a bowl o' cereal, eh?"

"He _isn't _up yet..." I murmured. "Why not?"

"'E an' I stayed up for a while, talkin'."

"What about?"

Grandma exhaled sharply. "Nothin' in particular, love. Jus'... stuff, as you'd say it."

I smiled, once again relieved. "Alright, then." I turned away and went to go sit at the booth; I wasn't all that hungry yet.

Grandma continued what she was doing without words, and I sat and watched her for the majority of my time there.

I soon found myself leaning back against the seat and contemplating everything that I remembered from my dreams.

That horrible, bloody one in that stench-ridden, crimson-coated room was still haunting me.

Sweeney was _dying_, by the mere look of it. Even before that young boy came up from behind to swipe that razor blade across his throat.

He even mentioned the name Lucy... in song.

Why, I had no idea.

Without even knowing what was going on, and I could already tell that, whatever was happening, it was a tragic scene.

Could the man I had just been talking to yesterday be _the _Sweeney Todd? The murderer?

As much as I doubted it, that dream threw together every detail that Derek had mentioned while telling of the Demon Barber's tale.

Sweeney Todd - Benjamin Barker - bled to death by the throat while holding his wife's corpse.

Sweeney was cradling the body of a woman with dull, clouded, but doubtlessly golden hair. He looked devastated. Tired, like a whole night of slaughtering the innocent ripped all his energy from him.

Thinking about this made me want to go upstairs to visit Sweeney himself and ask him about this dream of mine...

But what if the dream told of the past?

If he _was _the killer, he'd kill _me_ for bringing up his wife!

_No, _I argued silently. _According to the story, Sweeney Todd only ever killed personally once. Serial killers don't usually kill for personal reasons, and neither did he. All but one man was killed by him for a real reason._

These words seemed to form so naturally in my head. It felt fairily strange at the same time though, too.

I knew for a fact that I wouldn't be talking about death so nonchalantly when it eventually came for me.

But that wouldn't be for a very long time, surely.

Right?

Heh. There I go being paranoid again.

I've really got to stop with that.

Right?

Eh. I should slap myself.

"Val?"

I looked up at Grandma who had stopped in motion to look at me.

Had I spoken a thought aloud?

I seriously hoped I hadn't.

To my relief, the expression on her face told me she hadn't heard anything... cover-blowing-like; She would've looked much more horrified if she did.

But it was then that something occurred to me: What would the harm be in asking her if she believed the shop was haunted?

"Wait," I held up a hand just as she was opening her mouth to speak. "Can I say something?"

Grandma looked a little alarmed at being interrupted, but not angry. She just gave a single nod, prompting me.

"Well... that kid - Derek - who came here yesterday... he's been telling me all this stuff about the barbershop upstairs being haunted by a man. A man named..."

At my pause, Grandma barely blinked. She was looking to prompt me again, in fact. "A man named...?"

"Sweeney Todd." I finished stiffly.

She didn't look particulary surprised.

Actually, if one looked close enough, they'd be able to see a very small hint of irritation on her face.

"Well... isn't it sorta strange that..." I pointed up at the ceiling, choosing my words carefully. "...that _he _goes by the name Sweeney Todd, too?"

Grandma was very still for a moment, but then she exhaled in a stressed sort of way that was obviously there to confuse me. She set down the bowl and spoon and walked around the counter to stand in the middle of the room and place her hands on her hips, looking at me expectantly. "'As this Derek lad been tryin' to open yeh up to the possibility that Mr. Todd is a ghost?"

"Yeah." I answered quickly.

Really. What was the harm in this? It felt good to let out my concerns.

"D'you believe 'im?" She murmured, eyeing me cautiously.

I fought the urge to look away from her stare, but I knew I couldn't. "I... I don't know. Should I? Do you think this place is even haunted in the first place?"

"Mr. Todd ain't no ghost," There was a certain firmness to her voice. "Let alone one of a murderer."

"He might not even _be_ the ghost though," I pointed out. "Has he ever complained about paranormal activity up there?"

Grandma looked strangely uneasy now, and her eyes darted around in a shifty sort of way. "No, no... not tha' I've 'eard yet, love."

Her expression thoroughly suggested she was lying, and yet her words sounded oddly true.

"Do you even believe in the story of Sweeney Todd? Quite a few of the people around town do." I questioned.  
>Grandma's eyes moved to meet mine again. "Yes, love. I do. Trust me when I tell you it's real. There's..." She swallowed. "... there's absolutely nothing that can ever be more real."<p>

I was mildly surprised by her determined tone of voice. She sounded as though she had _actual proof_, or something.

Noticing the face I pulled without realizing, Grandma spoke again. "Don't believe me? Yeh know... those stains on Mr. Todd's barbering chair... they ain't sauce."

I looked up at her, my eyes round. "But Sweeney... er - Mr. Todd - he said it wasn't... blood."

"Did he, now?" She looked intriqued at this notion. "Well," She looked up at the ceiling, her expression one of grim humor. "ain't that interesting..."

"Why?" I tilted my head.

Grandma sighed. "It's nothin', really. I promise you it ain't. But if you want to take a second look, go upstairs and see for yourself."

Her words hung in the musty, dead air for a few moments. Other than that, I wasted no time in getting up from my seat at the table to head for the side door.

As I was climbing up the stairs, I continued onward with my mental argument.

If Grandma believed in the story, then how could she assume the shop wasn't haunted?

To me, Sweeney Todd's business - no matter who he was _or_ is - sounded far from finished; He never got to experience being a father. And even when he finally returned, he never got to speak with his daughter or hold his wife again.

At this thought, I felt another stab of sympathy. Searing sympathy.

The poor guy.

* * *

><p>I reached the door and pulled it open easily, but Sweeney was nowhere in sight. As my eyes traveled the shop, I thought I caught sight of a dark figure that stood out in the shadows. It looked to be sitting on the cot in the dusty corner.<p>

"Sweeney?" I whispered, edging towards it at a cautious pace.

I could tell he wasn't used to being called by his first name; He would always flinch, or simply look at me as if there was something wrong with me whenever I'd do it.

This time was no exception.

As I got nearer, I realized the dark wasn't that bad to navigate through once your eyes adjusted. This part of the room especially was shrouded in shadows, having been a couple feet out of the large window's light.

"What are you doing?" I asked curiously.

He was, indeed, sitting to the edge of the old cot. Instead of having his vest and white shirt visible, he was wearing a dull, denim blue jacket over - most likely - two layers.

Was that because he was cold?

It wouldn't be surprising... but then again, it would.

The last time his hand made contact with me, it was as cold as death. And at that time, he seemed just as careless as he always did in all my time of knowing him (for... I do believe we're going on a week now).

I didn't elaborate on this much, however; The drastic thing to notice about Sweeney's appearance was that he held an old-fashioned frame-like thing that he was staring quite intently into.

He hadn't replied to my earlier question, so I just took to sitting down beside him.

Sweeney didn't make a move to deter me. He didn't seem to care much at the moment either.

That's what got me.

What could be so important that one would dare ignore...?

I carefully tried to peer over his arm at whatever it was he was looking at without moving too much.

I caught a glimpse.

Shot in sepia, an elegant woman in a white Victorian dress was holding a baby girl in her arms. The picture just beside it looked to be a closer up of the woman from the neck up, the baby still right close to her.

Before I could examine it further, Sweeney snapped it shut, and a particular glower of dislike made its way across his face as he turned his head to finally look at me.

I frowned up at him, more confused than nervous now. "Who was that?" I asked.

"No one you know, girl, and never will." He answered coldly.

I was currently struggling with that woman's appearance; She looked - in a strange sort of way - _just _like the corpse of the woman who Sweeney was holding in my dream.

Surely she couldn't be...?

"Your wife?"

Ooh, bad move, Val.

I seriously think I voice my thoughts a little too often.

Sweeney's dark eyes flashed dangerously, and he stood up just next to the cot. He grabbed my arm in a painfully tight grasp and yanked me up as well.

I gasped out in pain.

"_What _was that?" He seethed, dipping his head a little to hiss the words closer to my face.

I probably should've followed my better judgement and lowered myself closer to the floor, being in his presence...

But, puh! I wouldn't even do that now!

So, I did the exact opposite.

"Was that your wife?" I repeated firmly, standing a bit taller.

_Second _bad move of the day.

_God_, Val, do you have a death wish?

Sweeney got even lower this time, gripping the front of my shirt. I could feel his hand trembling with anger against my chest - though I rolled my eyes, because I soon realized that it was his left one. His injured one.

How did this guy ever learn to walk and talk, let alone shave a man?

"How did you know I had a wife?" His voice sounded strange this time. I don't think I ever heard him sound quite like this before: It almost sounded... softer, not as harsh. That was surprising, considering his tone just moments ago.

I stared at him blankly for a few moments, trying to register what was going on again.

Then, when I found my voice, I said the first thing that came to my mind. "_Had _a wife, Mr. Todd?"

Sweeney released his grip on my shirt. "It is better you are left clueless." He grumbled, turning his back on me.

I watched him as he trudged across the room, back to his desk.

"_No_," I protested, crossing my arms. "You were obviously hinting at something."

Sweeney still didn't say anything. He pulled out a razor from his box that was sitting upon the desk's surface, then unsheathed it, staring idly at his reflection in the blade.

I remained silent for a moment so the two of us could unconsciously admire the gleaming silver in the morning light. It was something that occasionally settled our arguments for us, or so it seemed.

Why did I find the razor's silver so... beautiful?

I knew my recent interest in them was nothing compared to Sweeney's love for them.

And yes. I said _love_.

He appeared happier when looking at these barbering tools. Heck, it seemed like the only time he'd ever have something relatively close to a smile on his face was when he was looking at them.

I thought these long starings were sort of, as I said before, creepy.

How can one be so attatched to a sharp tool, meant for tearing? Not necessarily tearing of the flesh, but tearing of stubble.

My thinking was carrying me away again, and Sweeney seemed satisfied with this. He sat down in his chair, razor still in hand, and stared at me.

It didn't take me long to realize this.

"Are you going to say something, then?" I demanded.

"We think the same," He commented. "I was about to say the same thing not a moment sooner."

"What do you expect me to say?" I hissed, clenching my fists. "_You're _the one who's hiding things from me!"

I stomped over to the chair and pointed at the red stains that marked it. "Grandma _said _that was blood. She wouldn't lie. _You_ lied to me."

Sweeney stiffened; That got his attention.

"Why would she mention such a thing?" He looked up at me, dark eyes narrowed. His voice was back to that of a low growl.

I took a cautious step back. "Why _wouldn't _she? What do you care?" I examined the old leather of the seat, soiled by crimson lines heading in all different directions at random, as if splattered long ago. "This place once belonged to the lair of a mass murderer..." I was still running my hand along it as I gazed into Sweeney's eyes. "It's not like you can keep it from anyone. Everyone around this street knows..." Suspicion started to grip me. "But wait... why were you trying to hide it from me? And, if you moved into this room just a few years ago, why haven't you scrubbed the stains out already? _And_, if you hadn't done it, I'm sure Grandma would've by now. What's up with that?"

Sweeney's jaw clenched, with discomfort or agitation, I didn't know. Probably both.

"I never said I moved in here _just_ a few years ago." He muttered.

"How long ago was it, then?" I stammered, once again having to grab onto the armrest to keep balance; I didn't like where this conversation was going _at all_.

Sweeney broke eye contact with me to look straight ahead, focused on something that I couldn't see. He was still absentmindedly fingering the unsheathed razor in his right hand.

"How long ago, Sweeney?" I demanded edgily.

Sweeney grimaced. "It's _Mr. Todd_ to you."

"Whatever," I snapped. "Just answer the question!"

I knew I had gone a step over the line the instant the words leaped off my tongue, because faster than I could blink, Sweeney bolted upright. He grabbed me by the back of the neck and roughly pushed me against the sloped window. I grunted with pain as my upper back and head felt the brutal impact, though the glass didn't break.

Sweeney lifted the razor into sight, and for a moment... my life really did flash before my eyes.

Perhaps it was a little too early to be saying this, but it _did_.

"Be reasonable, _lass_," Sweeney sneered, letting the cold blade touch my throat. He seemed to have enough confidence that the mere feel of such an icy sensation would make me freeze in place... and it did. "If I were you, I wouldn't be raising my voice."

He had a merciless, frighteningly savage look on his face. It seemed like only then did the harsh glint of death intent appear in his dark eyes, just for me to see.

And I don't think I had ever been more afraid of him than I was just then.

"You _are _the murderer," I whispered, my eyes widening in realization. "You... you went on a mad killing spree... and your wife... your daughter..." My voice was strained since my neck was bent so severely, the back of my head pressing against the steep slope of the window. I don't know how it came to me, for I was without proof. But the look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.

I didn't know whether to feel scared, angry, sympathetic, or confused.

Raging bewilderment seemed to draw out each of my senses, until I was mumbling aimlessly under my breath, my mind whirling out of my control.

All the while, Sweeney was looking at me with a very odd expression on his face. Something I couldn't quite place, and wasn't exactly in the state of mind at the time to do so anyway... but I'd go as far as saying something deep within him clicked at that moment.

His grip on my shoulders loosened, until finally he let go of them completely.

With a shriek, I fell to the wooden floor. I landed with a thud.

My head was absolutely throbbing, and I could still feel the cold silver of Sweeney's razor on my neck, as if it never left. My upper back was, as well, in a great deal of pain.

I layed there for what felt like hours, when in reality, it was only about a minute or so. I had blacked out for a brief few seconds, and just as I was getting my eyes back into focus, I felt a pair of hands grab onto me and pull me up. I could tell it was still Sweeney by the roughness - the sharpness - of his movements.

"Valerie, you've got to be silent. I can explain." His voice was quiet, though that didn't rob it of sounding pointedly incisive.

Out of instinct, I blindly lashed out, hoping to hit him away; He didn't need to explain.

How did I not realize before - that he was dangerous?

I needed to get out of here. Like... _now._

As I scrambled up from the floor, blackness momentarily covered my vision again; I stood up too fast, probably.

Even so, I continued onward toward what I was pretty sure would be the door.

When I eventually got my sight back, I quickly grabbed for the knob and busted it open, slamming it shut behind me as soon as I was clear of it.

As I flipped around the railing, I heard the door open once more from behind.

He was _following _me? Why?

I was so focused on this, I hadn't even realized I missed a step, not concentrating hard enough on my feet.

I fell, grunting in pain at every hard, bumpy step that battered my body. Falling down these stairs certainly took longer than running up them. That's for sure!

When I finally hit the cold, hard ground, all the air that was left in my body was knocked out of me. The side of my head was scratched open, and blood was trickling down my temple.

I sincerely felt like writhing around and screaming, but my body just wasn't working on my own accord at the moment.

"Valerie," Sweeney jumped down the last step and knelt down next to me. I couldn't see his face, but he sounded... _concerned?_ "Are you alright?"

I coughed, then moved my head around to look up at him despite the pain. "What do _you _care?" I snapped. "You killed people for a living, you... er... you killer!"

Smooth, Val.

"You're right," Sweeney was gently lifting my head to view the scratch as he spoke. "I killed at one time. I don't kill now."

I snorted. "That last thing you said to me sounded like a death threat, if I've ever heard one. Perhaps a bit more suggestive than others, but still-"

"Val!" Seville was stood just by the threshold of the side door, his mouth agape. I didn't even hear him running across the shop.

I stared right back, my expression blank. How would he take to this, exactly?

Luckily, Sweeney took over before either of us had to worry about it. "Lad," His voice was flat. "I believe you know where you should be, and yet you're not there."

Seville still looked horrified, but he seemed to know what Sweeney was talking about. He gave a quick nod and headed back in.

"What?" I questioned frustratedly, struggling to stand back up.

Sweeney hesitated for a moment, then slipped one arm under my back, and the other under my legs. He picked me up without even the faintest struggle; I always figured he was strong.

Despite the fact that my prediction was true, I scowled when as he started to carry me towards the door. "Why are you doing this?"

Sweeney didn't reply, working too hard to get the door open with me still in his arms as an oppose to communicating with words.

When he finally got the door open, he carried me in. Just as he was setting me down at the booth, Grandma came in from the parlor, Seville hot on her tracks.

"Yeh did _what_, Mr. Todd?" She exclaimed.

However, when she saw what had just happened, she looked a little more confused now.

I sighed. "What did you tell her, Seville?" I massaged my temple, wiping away the blood that was still dripping in the process.

"'Ow'd yeh get 'urt, love?" Grandma asked, walking on over to kneel down in front of the seat this time.

"She fell down the stairs." Sweeney answered.

Grandma looked up at him, a fond bit of affection in her eyes at the sight of him. "Oh, Mr. Todd... yeh came down. I knew you 'ad it in yeh."

Sweeney looked away from her, glaring out the door in a stoic manner. "Did you expect me to leave her lying there?"

Grandma, after a few seconds of thought for her safety, came up to Sweeney and rapped one arm around his stiff, fairily scraggy figure, pulling him closer to her. "That's exactly what I would've thought yeh to do, love."

Sweeney merely shook his head, the half hug not really taking him by much surprise, but not making him particulary happy either. I could tell that, if Grandma didn't have both of them pinned to his sides, he'd probably have his arms crossed.

Seville was cringing at this.

I, for one, was too busy pressing my palm against the puncture on the side of my head to care.

Well, _that_, and also... what was currently haunting my thoughts.

Did that _really_ just happen?

It happened quite fast, obviously. It didn't even seem to make sense when I really thought about it. Did _I _even understand?

I already took note that Sweeney wasn't a ghost. He was very much alive. So how could this be?

He _admits_ to being the homicidal guy everyone on the street is talking about, after much denying it when discussing it with me. I would assume it was just a prank, but of course, assuming this was something I'd do with someone else. Not Sweeney. Because you don't just _assume _these things when it comes to him.

Even if he usually _was_ one to fool around, he looked way too serious about putting that blade to my throat back in the barbershop. Therefore, he didn't need to offically confirm it. I'd probably be able to tell, eventually.

And Grandma - did she know that he used to kill innocent people? Had that been why she was trying to keep him from me at first?

With all these thoughts swirling about, it made me wonder all the more what mine and Sweeney's next conversation would consist of, considering the "beans" had been spilled.

Mr. Todd wasn't just some modern-day barber with a quirky attitude.

He was _Sweeney Todd, The Demon Barber of Fleet Street_.

Just as Derek put it.

So now that _that_ question was out of the way, I had another one: Sweeney Todd apparently died in 1846, and yet he was standing right before me, looking to be getting a bit annoyed with my Grandma at the moment - in case you were wondering - for beginning to fuss over him and making up for all the days that she hadn't the chance to when he was upstairs all the time.

Why was he not dead then - not even a ghost?

I leaned back, acknowledging their banter without really taking in any words.

Somehow, it seemed to me that I would have had better luck finding a modern-day serial killer, rather than an 18th century retired one who was said to be dead...

This didn't explain why my heart was still racing, however. But I think I knew the cause of that anyway.

Who's to say for sure that Sweeney Todd ever retired?

* * *

><p><em><strong>My God, I'm bone tired. O.o I really wanted to post this, but I'll definitely go back and edit out mistakes as soon as I'm a bit more well rested.<strong>_

_**For now, review. Because I do think the format and words are acceptable and understandable enough, for now.**_

_**AND, Thank you very much to SightlessSeer (Thanks for the razor ^^ Much appriciated!) and a raven like a writing desk for reviewing!**_


	19. Attempt To Ring A Bell

_**Chapter 19**_

Grandma released Sweeney to come and sit beside me. "We'll fix that up, dear." She brushed curly strands of hair away from the cut, as I hadn't thought to do so before.

I was still lost in thought, not paying her much mind. I was glancing over her shoulder again to look up at Sweeney who still stood behind her.

I bit my lower lip.

What now?

Seville and I were sat in the parlor just the next day.

It felt good to be with him for a while. It made me remember that my life was still partially normal.

It was pretty bright out this day, too. But we were content with staying inside.

We made up, too, if you didn't guess. Though I didn't tell Seville about Sweeney Todd being real, alive, and above our heads at that very moment, I figured it'd all come in good time.

_I _hadn't even recovered from yesterday's ordeal. I'd convince many - and even _you_, apparently - that I was doing fine. That I wasn't traumitized.

Us Lovett's, we're... we're good liars, we are.

Okay, fine, I wasn't necessarily traumitized. Actually, I didn't know what to think at the moment.

The latest question that had just recently came to mind since yesterday was why Sweeney had been lying to me. Did he actually like me? Was he just trying to avoid having a bad reputation with me?

If he was, I wouldn't really know what to think about that either.

Should I have been flattered, in that case?

Should you even _be _flattered when a mass murderer is trying to work his way onto your good side? Or should you just run to the law and be done with it?

"What's on your mind, sis?" Seville asked from beside me.

He saw my lost expression.

I rolled my eyes, trying my best to act normal. "Nothing. Must I guard my thoughts so thoroughly when around my brother anyway?"

Seville shook his head. "You just act like there's always something wrong. You haven't even hit thirteen yet, and you're already acting like the typical teenager."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm sorry," I muttered. "I thought, out of all sincerity, that you wouldn't care."

"Ugh, come on," Seville rapped his arm over my shoulders, sighing. "Let's not fight again. It's been happening all too easily lately."

I gave a numb nod of my head; If he didn't want to fight, would he be willing to sit and listen while I tell him about Mr. Todd?

Maybe his doubt would reassure me.

There had been so many secrets kept from me, and as I recall, the barber upstairs had no proof that he really _was_ a killer... you know, besides putting a razor blade to my throat and threatening me from time to time. As much as those sounded like the makings of a solid fact, _still _nothing about this seemed possible.

"Sev?" I spoke up after a moment of hesitation.

"Yeah?" He was contently squinting against the fairily searing light that was beaming through the curtains on the usually dusky windows.

I unconsciously brought my knees up to my chest, thinking. "Er... you know that story that Derek told us - about the guy who slit peoples' throats with straight razors?"

"Yeah." Seville smirked; Probably out of contempt for the unrealistic story.

I, all together, didn't blame him.

"Well, it's real." I stated the words so flatly and quickly that I hadn't wasted any time to firm my voice up a bit.

Seville blinked straight ahead of us, then turned his head to face me. "What?"

"It's real," I repeated. "Because, you know, the bloodstains on the chair upstairs."

"I thought you already saw those and still didn't believe." Seville told me.

I shrugged a bit, wondering how I'd now break this to him. "Well... yeah... but then I, um..." I decided to just tell him about how Sweeney had confirmed it in words, instead of telling him all about the way he was getting ready to slice my head off. "I asked Mr. Todd, and he didn't... he didn't deny, Sev."

"He didn't deny to what?" My brother pressed.

"He didn't deny to killing all those men!" I exclaimed.

Seville switched back to silence again. He was expressionless, too. No look of horror. No look of realization, or anything to prove something just dawned on him.

Then the unexpected happened.

He grinned at me. "Alright, _now _his sense of humor finally comes out!"

"What?" I stared at him, bewildered.

"I never knew he had it in him!" Seville went on.

"Sev, have you been brainwashed?" I snapped.

He obviously hadn't believed a word I just told him.

Did he really think Sweeney was just trying to scare me for a laugh? I thought Seville knew him for longer than me!

Seville's grin faltered down in a simple smile. "Val, I still stand by my belief. He can't be a killer from so long ago. He'd be haunting a jail cell right now if he was!"

I rose an eyebrow. "How do you know he went to jail anyway?"

"I don't. But what else could've happened?"

"Don't you remember? Derek said he died in the bakehouse. _Downstairs_, Sev. He never went to jail."

Seville shook his head. "You can't have such a thing going on for so long without getting caught. Was law _really_ that loose back then?"

"He held _my_ trust for pretty long." I muttered.

"You don't trust him now, then?" Seville toned his voice down a little.

"I... I don't know. He helped me up after I fell yesterday," I replied uneasily. "It's weird. He'd definitely be the strangest killer I could ever think up. He..." I paused to think. "... He has - like - _manners_. But he tends to discard them a lot." I ruefully dipped my head. "I know for a fact that he's the only guy - besides you - that ever really took what I had to say seriously."

Seville was listening to me in silence. When I stopped, he opened his mouth immediately to speak. "You go into a lot of detail when describing someone. You know, Val?"

I frowned ill-humoredly. Was that all he was going to say?

Adults either found what I had to say humorous, cute, or just downright nonsense. The bad thing was that I wasn't aiming for any of those things. Not at all.

"I mean, you'd rather describe the personality of someone you hardly got to know for more than a minute, rather than what the person looks like." He explained.

"Since when did looks matter?" I countered.

"Heh," Seville smiled. "Since the police practically needed a picture drawn just to track someone down. Do you realize how much you'd infuriate them?"

I stood up from the couch, glaring back at him. "Do _you_ realize just how much you infuriate _me_? It's moments like this where - serial killer or not - I'd rather hang around with Mr. Todd upstairs as an oppose to you."

"Val, come on," Seville stood up too. "Honestly, what did I do this time?"

"The mentioning of _police_," I snapped. "I don't know, Sev. Figure it out." I left him standing there and stormed into the shop.

Seville came right up from behind me as I approached the side door. "Val, please." He placed a firm hand on my shoulder and turned me right back around to face him. "It might just be your belief that triggers his rage."

"Oh, yeah, okay," I pushed him away. "So do you believe, or not?"

"According to... to the way that he is, I'd say it's possible. But I really don't see how, Val. How can it be true? He's not dead."

"Do you want me to find you proof right now?" I demanded.

"N-no. I just-" He studdered.

"Come on," I cut him off and grabbed him by the wrist, starting up the stairs. "If he hurts you, we're out of there. Then you'll have proof. And if _I _hurt you, he'll help you. Maybe then we'll learn to trust him."

"Val - I - no! Just-" Seville hung back, but I kept a tight grip on him.

I don't even remember clearly how exactly I managed to drag him all the way up the stairs and to the shop door, but I somehow did.

I pushed the door open, making a loud enough noise to alert Sweeney - maybe even agitate him.

Sweeney Todd himself was standing by the window, his back to the door. But he flipped around immediately. His teeth were bared, and he was already grabbing for his razor.

I knew it. How could I have not seen the signs before?

When he saw it was us, he stopped. A look of confusion made its way onto his ghostly, pale face when he saw Seville with me.

"What is it he wants?" He grunted, jerking his head in Seville's direction as if he weren't even there.

I, now feeling less afraid, let go of Seville and strode right up to Sweeney, glaring at him. "You can use his name." I pointed out.

"Yes, I could. Though I'd rather not carry his body downstairs next." Sweeney's voice sounded so dark now. It was like, now that he knew I knew his secret, he could act like himself around me.

Seville recoiled at these words, but I stood my ground. I didn't even know what he meant by that anyway.

But Seville obviously did.

"Okay, here's what we want: You're a killer, right?" I crossed my arms, waiting for his answer.

Sweeney looked a little shocked at first. It took a moment for him to reply. "I-I was." He muttered.

I gazed up at him in surprise; Did he _stutter?_

I cleared my throat before going on, still shocked. "_He_ doesn't believe me when I tell him." I managed to state, pointing over at Seville who was currently edging his way towards the door.

Sweeney gave a simple nod of his head. His words were, at a fair amount, crisp. "I should've expected you'd tell him," He looked over me to peer at Seville with narrowed eyes. "But... how can _you_, of all people, not believe her?"

"Huh?" I stepped aside to look back and forth from the two of them.

They had locked eyes now.

"Your brother knows, as well as any, that I am a sheer force to be reckoned with," Sweeney didn't look particulary proud when he said this, as I would've expected him to. "I don't understand why he can't remember."

"R-remember what?" Seville whispered.

Without warning, Sweeney pushed past me and lunged across the room at my brother. I gasped.

He had pulled Seville beside the door so no one could see from outside the window. Then he pulled out his razor and let the blade rest at his throat.

Seville yelped. Pain and shock were two things he was quite clearly experiencing.

Was Sweeney actually letting the blade _rip his flesh_?

"Does _this _ring a bell, lad?" Sweeney snapped.

Immediate resentment welled up in my chest. I stomped over and grabbed onto the barber's "razor" arm, trying to pull him off my brother.

"Valerie, get off me," Sweeney growled. "I'm trying to help him."

"_Help him_?" I exclaimed incredulously. "That's the lamest excuse you've come up with so far!"

He ignored my voice and snapped his head back to Seville, who was desperately trying to push away with my failed help. "I did just this years ago, Seville," He murmured, his tone now softer. "And then your grandmother explained my reasoning. Why can you not remember?"

"Um," I let go of his arm. "Can you explain this one to me first? I'm confused."

When Sweeney didn't reply, I rolled my eyes. "And please stop torturing my brother. He gets terrified when you even _glance _his way."

"This needs to be done." Mr. Todd answered idly, not even looking at me.

"_None_ of this needs to be done!" I snapped. "Nor did any of your pointless killing!" I stepped up to try prying him off again. "Get _off _of him! You're hurting him!"

Seville seemed to have given up trying to escape. He remained standing under Sweeney's deathly strong grip, whimpering.

Groaning angrily, I mustered up all my strength and rammed against Sweeney again. To my surprise, he backed off this time.

Seville fell to the floor, holding his neck and breathing heavily.

"Kill him, why don't you?" I rounded on Sweeney, clenching my fists. "You know, _I'm_ not afraid of you. If my grandmother found out, she'd-she'd be pissed."

"I _know _how Elle would respond to this," Sweeney glared down at me. "For some reason unknown, she loves you two."

The word "love" coming out of his mouth was probably the weirdest sound I'd ever heard. I didn't know whether to feel offended or not. Should I have really taken what he said to heart?

Sweeney kept staring at me without words, as if he wasn't sure of what to say now. Instead, he shook his head and brushed past me again to look down at Seville. "Lad, how are you feeling?" His voice was rough, almost harsh enough to make someone flinch.

I turned on my heel, then knelt down beside Seville to help him up. "How do you _think _he feels?"

"How do you think _I_ feel...?" Sweeney muttered the words under his breath, his dark eyes glazing over to the wall. They weren't meant for me to hear, but I caught on.

"Like a million dollars, probably!" I answered snippily. "When was the last time you threatened someone with death?" Before he could reply, I already spoke again. "Oh, yeah, it was just yesterday. To me." I placed Seville's limp arm over my shoulders and guided him over to the barbering chair to sit him down. Then, once I was sure he was settled, I turned around to face Sweeney again. "You just... sincerely get a thrill out of hurting others... don't you?"

He froze where he stood, gazing at me with a look of faint helplessness behind his eyes. I could tell he was struggling to find a good answer.

"...If you need to think about it, I don't see why I should wonder anymore." I murmured.

I leaned on the stained armrest and stared down at Seville, mostly for an excuse to look away from Sweeney. I was somewhat glad that Seville was in too much of a state of shock to realize he was sitting in the same chair that many men were slaughtered while sitting upon.

Did he believe now? If he had experienced getting hurt by Sweeney before, why hadn't he started to get a clue a long time ago? Well, he _did _get a clue, but how could he not believe?

"Valerie," Sweeney's voice made me freeze, but I didn't turn around when I sensed the barber walking over to stand by me again. "Do you need to wonder how you'd feel if your family was taken away from you?"

My heart missed a beat; I had almost forgotten about his family. His wife and daughter. Lucy and Johanna.

"I'd be..." I mumbled. "... I'd be heartbroken."

"Would you?" Sweeney narrowed his eyes. "Left heartbroken for fifteen years? Little would you know, it'd be soon to follow for years to come. It wouldn't _be_ heartbreak anymore. It'd be disappointment," He looked up towards the window, his dark brown eyes fixed on something I couldn't see. "Then it'd be anger. Pure, unsatisfied blood lust."

I shook my head. "I'm not like you. I'm not a murderer."

"Do you suppose Benjamin Barker considered himself a murderer?" Sweeney questioned.

I didn't reply.

Sweeney sighed and pushed away from the chair. He turned his back on us and approached the grayish, eerily lit, sloped window. "No one knows where they'll be in fifteen years, and nor will they ever know. They could be the complete opposite of themselves by then."

"What about you, Sweeney Todd?" I looked up at him. "Do you suppose you might be the opposite of yourself in fifteen years to come?"

Sweeney paused. He only spared me a very small glance over his shoulder when he next replied. "Only time will tell."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Stop assaultin' me characters, Mr. Todd! Who's next - Derek? Er... I probably shouldn't have said that.<strong>_

_**But really, Sweeney's got to come up with something better soon. As classic as that "Pin against wall and put razor to throat" thing is (and as much times as I have yet to use it), Valerie is soon going to learn how to slip out of it. XD**_

_**Uh, yeah... so anyway, I know this one is shorter than the last one. It just seemed like a pretty great place to cut off.**_

_**I thank all who previously reviewed. Mind doing it again? :3**_


	20. Where You've Been

_**Chapter 20**_

I was lugging Seville down the stairs, making sure not to fall. It seemed then that stairs were frightening to me. But only when going down. I had been so determined to go up before that I hadn't even thought about it.

"Val?" Seville blinked a few times, then glanced at me. "Mr. Todd... he's not... near... is he?"

"No," I kept my eyes pinned on my feet as they navigated downward, my words firm. "He's not." Irritation building up within me was threatening to snap at him, and it took the very most of my control to keep it in. "I will say that leaving your sister in the exact vision of a murderer wasn't the best idea though. I mean... you're swearing you'll protect me, and then you practically faint in my arms in a time of danger."

"Did he hurt you?" Seville demanded.

"He didn't hurt _me_," I replied. "But he did hurt _you_."

"It's nothing," He breathed. "Just a graze on my neck and a searing sore shoulder."

"Ugh," I shook my head. "What a jerk."

We came down the last step, and I led Seville over to one of the courtyard tables where we sat down on the bench.

"Do you believe now, then?" I asked him, breathless.

Seville sat rigid for a few moments. Then he exhaled and turned to face me, his eyes steady. "Val, did... did you feel _weird _up there... at all?"

"Weird?" I repeated, checking to make sure I heard him right.

"Yeah," He nodded once. "Like... like you were just told something in silence?"

"What?" I narrowed my eyes, genuinely confused now.

"Like... you weren't told anything aloud... but you suddenly just _know _something." Seville pressed.

"Well," I still didn't exactly understand, but I decided to play along. "What is it you now know? Does it sound important?"

"No - well... yes. It was a vision," He looked perplexed. "Grandma was in it. She was telling me something."

An ill-humored chuckle escaped me, and I swung my legs over the bench and set them down underneath the table. "What was she _telling_ you?"

"Something about... uh... about Mr. Todd being wronged in the.. in the past, or-"

"That's it!" I exclaimed quite loudly.

"What's it, love?" Grandma's voice from behind made me flinch.

She had left early in the morning to visit a neighbor or something. She didn't tell us who.

I turned around to look at her. "Oh, it's nothing. We're just talking."

"Well," She smiled a bit as she approached us from the side door. "I'd be bold enough to say that yeh can't 'ave a conversation till there's a subject."

My heart was thumping in my chest; Had she overheard what we were talking about? For some reason, I wanted to keep it between us for now. It felt... important. I really didn't know why though.

"We were just talking about where we'd be going with Derek next," Seville lied in a surprisingly smooth tone. "He knows this street so much better than we do."

"Mm," Grandma nodded. "I'm glad you're takin' so nicely to this place."

"It's better than being anywhere else." I put forward.

That was also sort of a lie. I could think of different relatives' houses that could be way more enjoyable to stay at than here. They were just too far away.

"Well, I'm glad, love. Yeh know, it's-"

The small, faint sound of a tune that sounded an awful lot like the ring tone of a phone interrupted Grandma mid-speech. And sure enough, Seville stiffened and glanced down at his pocket, where he kept his cell phone.

"Who'd be calling me?" He muttered.

"Answer it, then." I urged, irked that he'd even bother to question; It_ could_ be important.

Without further hesitation, Seville reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out. He then flipped it open and put it to his ear.

"Hello?"

There was a pause.

I could hear the sound of a muffled voice on the other line. It sounded sorta... familiar.

As if to confirm my thoughts, Seville's eyes stretched wide.

"M-Mum?"

I held back a gasp, and Grandma immediately moved to sit beside me. We both stared at Seville intently.

Mum's muffled voice carried on in what sounded like a pretty long speech. Seville's jaw was agape the whole time, apparently dumbstruck. When he finally got the chance to speak, his tone was small and nervous.

"We-well... w-where are you? Why-why didn't you...?"

I sincerely wished I could've heard her too. Grandma looked just as anxious, though I knew for a fact that she was more eager to hear about if Dad was okay.

After Mum spoke again, replying to Seville's mumbling, my brother exhaled heavily. "Is... is Dad okay then? Where is he?"

Mum's news seemed to bring him down more and more, as to the point where he was resting his forehead into his hand. "Oh God..."

I moved closer so's I could catch his eye, and when he finally looked up, he was frowning at me.

"Okay, Mum. Don't worry. We'll be there soon," He reassured her. "I promise. Just sit tight."

Not wasting any time, Seville closed the phone shut and stared at us. His mouth was still hung open, as if he forgot to close it.

"So?" I demanded. "What's going on? Are they okay? If they are, I'm _so_ going to kill them for not calling-"

"Mum's at the motel that she and Dad were staying at," Seville blurted. "She can't move. She's hurt."

"What?" I gasped.

"She just got a hold of the phone," He went on. "And..." He lowered his voice. "... she's been lying there for _days_, Val."

"Let's go get her, then!" I exclaimed, jumping up from my seat.

Grandma remained seated, however. She kept her gaze pinned on Seville. "An' your father, Sev? Where's 'e?"

Seville swallowed hard. "M-Mum said that Dad went out to a gas station to get ice that the motel couldn't provide. After he left, the guy who came in and attacked her stated he would go to "get him" next."

"_"Get him"_?" I snorted. "Who does this guy think he is?"

"Did she say what this man looked like?" Grandma questioned. Her eyes had a strange glint in them.

"No." Seville shook his head.

"Does it matter?" I snapped. "_We've_ got to go find them now. Something the police failed to do."

After a moment, Grandma nodded in agreement. "All righ'. We're leavin'."

"But wait," I blinked, ready to finally address the problem that I had been wondering about for days. "You don't have a car."

"Oh," She rolled her eyes. "I used to. But the law took it away a long while ago - somethin' 'bout me bein' mad." She stood up beside me. "We'll jus' take a taxi. I don't want the cops gettin' involved."

* * *

><p>Grandma went up and told Sweeney where we were going. He responded with an indifferent grunt, and nothing more. Not like <em>that<em> surprised me...

It wasn't long before the taxi that Seville had phoned and summoned over arrived. I had previously brushed out my hair a bit, and then put my gray sweater on over the t-shirt I had been wearing all morning. I changed into some actual jeans, too. It was surprising, really. I dug around in my bag and realized it was a pair that I hadn't even worn yet.

As we piled into the taxi and Grandma explained to the driver about where it was we needed to get to, Seville placed his hand on my arm to get my attention.

I looked up at him. "What?"

"Val, Mum also said she had something important to tell us." He replied. "She wouldn't tell me. Said she wanted to tell us when we're together."

"Oh," I propped my elbow up just next to the window as the vehicle started to move, puzzled. "What do you think that could be?"

"Beats me. Let's just hope we can find her, first."

"Sev, did your Mum tell yeh 'er room number?" Grandma called from the front.

"Yeah. 28. The place is really small." Seville explained.

"Good thing," I muttered. "I wouldn't want to spend the whole day searching for the room in a 300-room hotel."

"Val," Seville rolled his eyes. "You know hotels can have way more rooms than that."

"Yeah, well," I looked up at him, glaring; Was this bickering going to consist of the whole trip? "I'm-I'm just aggravated, Sev."

Silence fell upon the taxi, and then my brother put an arm around me, speaking in a teasing tone. "Yeah. And we all know an aggravated twelve-year-old is some serious deep shit."

"Seville," Grandma called. "Watch your mouth, lad."

More quietly, I smirked up at him. "Okay. Now I _know _you're kidding."

* * *

><p>We really did stay silent for the rest of the way there, believe it or not. It must've been having to wait in bated breath after it really sunk in as to where we were going, only able to wonder what sort of injury Mum was suffering from.<p>

Well... that's what was on _my_ mind.

After all, it was surely something bad if she couldn't even _move _without being in pain. I knew Mum; If she was able to put up with the pain, she would, if it meant she'd be able to see us again. As much as I mentioned that she hardly ever listened to my opinion, I do think she really loved me. It was something I didn't exactly understand when I was younger. But now I remembered all those days where she just wouldn't look herself... mainly days where she'd constantly be talking to Seville and not paying any attention to me. I couldn't go to Dad on those days, either. He was always locked up in his and Mum's room, talking on the phone.

These days came up a lot. But the most severe example was - in fact - just days after we came home from Grandma's.

Could this have had to do with Sweeney?

I'd now know why Mum hated him so much. I knew I should've as well. Though there was something about him... something I needed to know. I couldn't leave him up there. Not only because I figured he'd be lonely, but because I just couldn't. Something invisible was stopping me.

My thinking went on for pretty much the whole trip. I hardly ever looked up from my lap, so it was sorta strange that, after a while, Seville's hand once again resting on my arm made me look up and out the window to notice we were now in a completely different environment.

Dozens more people were walking about, and in more modern-day clothing.

Huh. When we turned onto Fleet Street, did we enter into some kind of portal leading into the past?

"I think that's it, over there." Seville pointed out my side's window at a fairily small building that looked as though it only had about two floors. It resided just beside the road - no parking lot.

"It _is _very small." I remarked.

"Come on, then," Grandma urged the driver. "Pull in. We'll be out shortly."

The driver did as he was told and parked outside the building, watching us as we began to climb out.

Then we made for the door, my heart still thumping rapidly.

"They must've stopped here quite a few times," Seville muttered. "And then on their way back..."

"They should've come home." I whispered.

We pushed through the doors, revealing a very small lobby with a dull light which hung from the ceiling that was flickering on and off in a rather unkept manner. Two or three flies buzzed around it as well, attracted to the brightness.

There was a desk against the wall where an unhappy-looking man resided, flipping through a magazine and muttering things under his breath.

"Sir," Grandma strolled across the room, us just behind her. "Care tellin' us where room 28 is?"

The man looked up, startled by her unusual accent. He cleared his throat before replying dryly, "Taken, ma'am."

"We don't need a room," I snapped. "We need to find someone."

"Valerie, shush," Grandma chided, then turned her attention back to the man. "Please, sir. We jus' need to know where it's located. There's someone real 'urt in that room."

"_Our _mother." I added.

"What?" The man narrowed his eyes. "Shouldn't this woman's mother be dead by now?" He motioned to Grandma. "How would you two know anything about the whereabouts of room 28?"

While Grandma was too busy looking enraged at the man's comment about her mother, I took this chance to speak. "Two?"

I flipped around, but I couldn't see Seville anywhere.

"Sev? Where is he?"

Just as Grandma was opening her mouth to say something scathing to the man, she turned around instead as soon as my words reached her ears.

"What?" She gasped out the word.

It was only took a few heartbeats, and then the sound of footsteps across the room made me turn around once more to see Seville standing at the entrance to the hall a few feet away from the desk. I guessed the hall was made up of doors for rooms, and as I approached my brother to look past him, I realized I was right.

"Found it." Was all Seville said, smirking at us.

I flashed him a fond smile and began following him down the hall.

From behind, I heard Grandma mutter what sounded like, "Nevermind." before I was sure she had joined us.

"Hey! Wait!" The man called, his voice heightening.

Grandma stopped in her tracks.

I didn't turn. Though I did stop to listen.

"How do I know what you three are planning to do in there?"

Those words made my lungs tighten agressively and my jaw clench; I had already been suspected for being up to no good when with Derek at the cemetary entrance. How untrustworthy did I look?

"Love," Grandma's voice was even-toned and as calm as good be, which led me to believe that she didn't share my rage. "I'm 'ere with me two grandkids. What's a lil' ol' lady an' 'er grandchildren gonna do?"

The man paused, his eyes darting back and forth to rest on each of us until he backed off a few steps. "Very well. I won't be giving any second chances though. Be sure of that."

I rolled my eyes, and though I couldn't see her, I was sure Grandma had as well.

Then we were off again.

"You know the exact door?" I demanded, coming to join Seville by his side.

"Of course I do," He replied quickly. "Gosh, it's like I ask your state, and you ask to make sure I'm not getting stupid."

"Hey, we're watching out for one another, right?" I bumped my shoulder with his.

After a long period of silence and checking each door, my gaze swept over that particular number.

28

Ugh, this was scary.

"Alright, open it." I prompted my brother, my hands on my hips.

"N-no. _You_ open it." He stammered.

"'Ey, not to burst anyone's bubble, but..." Grandma motioned to the door knob. "We 'aven't got a key, r'member?"

Crap. The key.

"FFF-" The word nearly escaped my lips, but Grandma shot me a warning glare, and I fell silent.

"I'll-I'll try busting down the door." Seville managed to say through a disappointed scowl.

"Yeah. You do that." I muttered, leaning against the wall now.

First, Seville put his ear to the door. "Mum?" He called in.

A muffled gasp followed his call, and then the voice that I had been waiting so long to hear again came to my ears. "Seville - Valerie - I-"

"Mum!" I shouted, drowning out the beginnings of Seville's softer speech. "We need the key!"

"I-I...kn-know... I.." Her words broke off, and she uttered a pained grunt.

"Amri?" Grandma called. "What's wrong with yeh, love? We'll get someone."

"N-no," Mum choked out. "I-I think the door was left open by... by the man who came in. He-"

"That low-life scumbag who attacked you?" I raged, grabbing hold of the door knob.

The door shot open.

Why hadn't we tried the door knob before? Who's to say it really _was_ locked?

Seville pushed past me immediately and hurried into the dusky motel room. We turned a corner, and... well, there she was.

Mum was sprawled on the bed that was propped against the wall. She had a split lip and a black eye, and the black dress that she was wearing was ripped in random places. Her curly, dark red hair was let down to look quite similar to mine, though very unusual.

Seville and I were at her sides in a heartbeat.

"Mum," I knelt down beside her - because the bed _was _pretty big for being in a motel, of all things - and she rapped a battered arm around my neck, pulling me closer to her. She did the same to Seville.

"I'm so sorry we didn't come home." She whispered.

"I-" I broke off to swallow down a sudden lump that rose up to my throat, then continued. "It's alright... it's not your fault. You didn't know you'd be..."

"Assaulted." Seville finished for me. "Mum, who did this to you? Did you catch a name?"

"I..." Mum paused, biting her lower lip. She then glanced up at Grandma who stood at the foot of the bed. "... Elle, we need to leave. I need to talk to you when we get back to our house. First thing."

"Our house?" Seville questioned.

Mum looked back at him in silence... then her features contorted into a look of dread. "You're staying at... her-her shop?"

"Yeah," I murmured. "The cops kicked us out of our house to live with Grandma until you and Dad were found."

Mum flinched at the mentioning of Dad, and I frowned. "What?"

"Val, Sev... Elle," Mum's eyes were growing watery. "I'm-I'm not sure if... if he... made it."

"What?" Seville gasped.

"Why not?" I demanded. "He's not even here. How would you know?"

Instead of replying, Mum propped herself a little higher, one hand resting on her stomach. "Elle, we-we need to leave. Let's go."

Grandma frowned down at her, concerned. After a moment, however, she shrugged and ordered Seville and I to get off the bed.

We helped her get Mum back on her feet.

"_Oh_!" Mum doubled over, and we nearly dropped her.

"How did he hurt you?" I asked Mum as Grandma steadied her.

"Slapped me, punched me, threw me about the room, and he... he took out a knife and..." She shuddered, and my heart missed yet another beat.

"I'm so sorry we didn't come sooner." I whispered.

"You didn't have any way of knowing." Mum soothed.

"And... and not only that," I looked up to view her mangled face again. "I'm sorry about what I said those few days before you left. It was... really uncalled for and I-"

"Oh! Miss!"

I hadn't realized we entered into the lobby, and the man from behind the desk came rushing over to look Mum over. "What happened?"

"It's fine, sir," Grandma grumbled. "We're takin' 'er out. _We'll _look after 'er."

"Are you sure? I could call an ambulance. It wouldn't be much trouble-"

"We're fine." Seville insisted in a firm tone, glaring at him.

The man backed down with a scowl, clearly intimidated by my brother. Seville _was _much taller than him.

I hid a smirk as I thought about what he would do if encountered by Sweeney. That'd be a riot, come to think of it.

"Very well," The man muttered. "Just... just know that our few amount of employees would _never _harm a guest here, merely because we are a very genuine, very honest-"

"Oh, we're not going to sue your God forsaken business." I snapped.

No words were spoken after that. We got Mum outside and helped her into the taxi that was surprisingly still there.

After taking one look at Mum, all the taxi driver said was, "To the hospital, then?"

"No," Grandma slipped in beside him, glaring daggers. "Take us back to 186 Fleet Street. Step on it, yeh bloke."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Absence of Sweeney AGAIN. D: Oh, he'll be along.<em>**

**_In the meantime, Valerie and Seville's mother has got some very serious matters to discuss with Elle, and soon after with her children._**

**_I find it amusing how abruptly I brought her back into the story. Evidence of their father's... attack, will soon be revealed. And maybe even who their attacker _was_..._**


	21. Insult To Injury

**_Chapter 21_**

The drive back to the shop was a partially silent one. Mum sat in between Seville and me, and Grandma kept her eyes on the road as if _she_ were the one driving. I looked around for a little while, feeling awkward and bored.

Then I gave in to the urge to look up at Mum and actually speak this time.

"So... Sev said you had something important to tell him and me?"

Mum swallowed before replying. "Yes. I... do."

"What is it, then?" Seville chimed in from her other side.

"I'll only tell you when we get back to Fleet Street." She murmured. "Be patient."

I looked back out the window, a glare making its way across my features. "I suppose Dad being dead wasn't it, then?"

"Valerie," Grandma looked back at me from the front for the first time, a glare far more present than mine on her face. "There's no bleedin' proof that your father's dead!"

"Yes, Valerie," Mum frowned at me disapprovingly, though I could've sworn I still saw a hint of sadness in her still-watery eyes. "Please show some sensitivity."

I didn't like how often my full name was being used lately.

Shaking my head, I unhappily crossed my arms for the rest of the way back.

It didn't take as long as the way there did, obviously. I hadn't the slightest care in the world. I didn't think much about what Mum had to tell us either...

* * *

><p>I was surprised when Fleet Street came into view again. We, like before, seemed to be plunged into a world of gloominess and gray colors. Mum was looking out the windows nervously, and I could see a faint shake in every turn of her head.<p>

With a sigh, I rested my hand on her wrist.

This place _was _intimidating, no doubt. Especially when you took seriously the notion of who resided here.

As I took a peek, I saw Grandma's face. She looked to be thinking hard about something, too set on this to care about the threatening vibe that this area gave off.

She was thinking about Dad - her son. I knew it.

When we finally parked outside the shop, Grandma was the first to move. She got out on the street's side, and I was the next to follow suit. I was a few feet away from the courtyard fence.

"Val, go fetch Mr. Todd, would yeh?" Grandma ordered.

Before I could ask why, Mum's voice cut off any potential for speech."She will do no such thing!" She came up from behind me and grabbed my shoulders, keeping me from proceeding the stairs.

Seville sighed. "It's okay, Mum."

I looked up at him in surprise.

"Valerie an' Mr. Todd 'ave met," Grandma explained to my mother, who still looked utterly shocked. "And though I'd be taking it a step to far to say they "'it it off", I'd say they're on... speaking terms." She gave me a small smile, which I happily returned.

Were they letting me into the loop _now_?

It's about damn time!

"Amri, come with me." Grandma took Mum's arm and pulled her towards the pie shop door. "Valerie can 'andle 'erself... I'm pretty sure."

Mum still looked as hesitant as could be, but she reluctantly followed her. Seville nodded to me. "Be careful, Val."

"As always." I mocked a curtsy at him.

He just shook his head without much of an expression and followed after Grandma and Mum, who were both already inside the shop.

I wasted no time in climbing over the courtyard fence and, just as I was starting up the stairs, came to another halt.

Sweeney was already standing outside his shop. Both his hands (gloveless, randomly enough) gripped the railing, and his eyes were closed.

This guy really did confuse me sometimes.

"Hey!" My raised voice made his eyes snap open immediately. "Getting some fresh air for once? You should be careful, you know; You might blow your own cover."

The moment I stepped into his reach, he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me upward, his glare returning.

"Keep your voice down." He hissed.

I scowled as I backed off from the stairs, afraid of falling again. "Why so on edge?" I questioned, watching him as he turned fully to face me with his arms right back at his sides again. "Is this the first time my grandmother left you home alone?"

Sweeney defiantly opened his mouth, his eyes sharpening. But the words that were forming seemed to die on his tongue, and the hand that was reaching towards his holster dropped back down again. It was still twitching though, as if he was unintentionally acting out a kill (sorta the equivalent of a cat chattering its teeth when stalking a bird). It was rather pitiful, really.

But... was that kinda like a yes?

Deciding to shrug that odd answer off, I stepped nearer to the stairs again, getting ready to begin my way down once more. "Look, Grandma - er, Elle - wants you downstairs. My mother is here."

Sweeney stared at me for a few heartbeats, a disgruntled look on his face. "So you brought that woman back, did you?"

Annoyance pricked at me, but I let him continue.

"And... I'm expected to...?" He paused, and I rolled my eyes.

"_Yes_. It's important, apparently. I... I think it's about my father." I admitted.

"Your father?" Sweeney repeated. "Is he hurt?"

"I think so." I was starting to get tired of these questions.

"Hm.." Sweeney's eyes fell back down upon the stairs, and I _swear_, the corners of his mouth curled upward into a good-natured smirk. He sounded as though he were talking to someone who wasn't there when he spoke next. "I believe _I _won the poll, Benny..."

"Excuse me?" I looked up at him with wide eyes.

"I - I was... nothing." Sweeney's smirk vanished. He briefly looked down at me and cleared his throat, then he began descending down the stairs as if he were only doing it to have a chance to look away from me.

"Wait; What do you mean by winning a poll? Who were you talking to?" I demanded, hurrying down after him.

"It's nothing," He grumbled without looking back at me (smart move). "It was a long time ago."

"You started a poll with my father? About what?" I pressed on.

Sweeney reached the bottom of the stairs, then flipped around to face me with a cold glare that made me freeze in place. "Discard it, lass."

"But I-"

"Drop it!"

Our argument must've carried on into the shop, because just an instant after my feet touched the cobblestone ground, Grandma opened the side door, her eyes round as she stuck her head out to look at us.

"What's goin' on out 'ere?" She exclaimed.

I crossed my arms and hung my head a little. Sweeney looked away dismissively, still fuming.

Wow.

Grandma really _did _have control of the household.

And us.

"Both of yeh," She muttered. "Get inside."

With an obedient nod, I stepped forward first and came in, just to see Mum and Seville to my right, sitting in the booth. I paused there for a moment, but as soon as I felt a light shoving on my back, I came further into the room and turned on my heel to watch the "show".

Grandma led Sweeney in, muttering gentle things to him all the while. She spoke so quietly I couldn't even hear.

Mum tensed where she sat.

"Alrigh'..." Grandma left Sweeney at the door, as that was obviously as far as he went before refusing to go any further.

Grandma went on over to Mum and helped her out of the booth. "We'll take care o' those cuts soon, dearie. Jus' a little while longer, alrigh'?"

Mum stiffly nodded. She was silently struggling over her injuries.

"What's the matter?" Sweeney's brisk, sharp voice cut through the still air, making Mum and Seville flinch.

Grandma looked at him. "I think..." She paused, in motion and in speech. Mum did too.

"Jus'-jus' come in 'ere, Mr. Todd. Please." Grandma pleaded, already helping Mum in.

"What about us?" I demanded.

"Stay in 'ere, like I told yeh." She ordered sternly. "No eavesdropping, either."

"But what's the big deal?" Seville spoke up, to my surprise.

"Yes..." Sweeney was slowly edging further into the room, interest seeming to overthrow his previous indifference. "What is the big deal? Surely it was enough to disturb my peace."

"_Mr. Sweeney Todd_," Grandma glared daggers at him. "Yeh _know _'ow much this "forbidden subject" sends me into fits of rage. Do _not _push it."  
>This finally did it.<p>

Sweeney's eyes widened. "Forbidden subject? You mean...?"

Grandma nodded.

Sweeney relaxed his shoulders a bit, and he seemed a bit more sure as to where his legs were carrying him as he steadily strolled across the room. "Alright, Elle," His voice was far more confident now. "Tell me something I don't know."

* * *

><p>Seville and I waited in the shop for what felt like an hour, unable to do anything but sit there. We listened to the three adults' muffled voices from inside the parlor, only able to wonder what the problem could be now.<p>

When the muffled voices turned into heightened shouts, we knew immediately that it wasn't a conversation anymore, but an argument.

"...Yeh don't _sound _worried!" Grandma's angry tone was the first clear sentence we made out. She sounded mad, but... also thoroughly grief-stricken, as if she were on the brink of crying.

"I can't be," Mum's voice came next. "I've got my kids to worry about."

"So you'll jus' forget your 'usband if yeh 'ave to?" Grandma snapped.

"I'll never forget Benny," Mum murmured. "You know that. But if I never see him again, you know I can't be taking time away from my children to grieve."

Seville and I exchanged anxious glances.

"You're jus' giving up, then?"

"I'm not giving up. But if I need to prepare for the worst, I will."

There was a pause. Then Grandma started up again, her voice a little softer this time.

"We _need_ to drive out there an' 'ave an actual look. You could be wrong."

"Elle... it was..."

Their voices toned down again, and I nearly spit with annoyance and disappointment.

"Be patient," Seville advised. "Remember what Mum said."

I stifled a groan and sharply slouched back against the seat, in the process hitting the back of my head up against it.

Heh. I kept forgetting how high the back rest was.

"Ow!" I hissed.

Seville shushed me immediately, though that didn't keep the exclaimation from coming out.

Even after, Grandma came storming back into the shop, shaking her head.

She didn't even look at us.

Mum followed closely behind, but she gave us a brief glance. Her eyes quickly fell back upon our grandmother though.

Where did Sweeney go off to? I didn't hear him at all throughout that whole discussion, and I honestly thought he'd be the most vocal out of all three of them.

"Elle... I'm sorry," Mum's voice shook me away from my thoughts. "I'm so sorry."

"What's going on?" I looked up at them, raising a brow.

Seville pushed up from the table and approached them carefully.

Grandma had her back turned to Mum, her gaze resting on the dull, marble floor. "I 'ope your last words to your father were generous ones."

"W-what?" Seville stammered.

"Elle, I would have done something if I could." Mum insisted.

"Like _what_? We all know this business 'as gotten way outta' 'and!" Grandma's voice shook with anguish.

Footsteps across the room made me look right; Sweeney stood in the archway, staring at Grandma with a blank expression on his face.

"Can someone explain to us what's going on?" I was now stood up myself, my heart pounding harder than usual.

"I know it has," Mum's temper seemed to be rising - she was completely ignoring us, that's for sure. "Just know it was sheer luck that _I _survived the attack."

"Why? So yeh can flaunt it?" Grandma sneered. "I _knew _Benny made a mistake when 'e married you!"

I tried to silence my gasp, but I failed. Seville did too. I even heard a very quiet intake of breath from Sweeney's direction.

"_No_," Mum's tone was even, almost inaudible now. "Because..." She looked from Grandma to Seville and I. Her eyes traveled back and forth for a few heartbeats. Then her next words came out a bit quicker than I was prepared for. "...because I'm with child."

_Everyone_ was silent for a moment, believe it or not.

Believe it or not because, as you must've gathered by now, we're a talkative bunch.

Well, all of us except Sweeney, of course.

Alright, Val... it was as of now time for the tension-breaking, cool-played, _practiced_ girl of the lot to take a step in. Yours truly, of course...

"Um... _what_?"

Sorry.

It was all I could say.

Elle's eyes were wide with shock. She placed a shaky hand on Mum's shoulder, carefully studying her face. "Amri, love... you're pregnant?"

Sweeney seemed to have offically deemed this subject worthy of his attention, because he finally stepped all the way into the room. He crept along past us to stand a bit closer to the side door, staring at Mum and Grandma the whole time. There was certainly something new and peculiar behind his dark eyes. Something not even I could place.

Mum, for once, wasn't watching _his_ every move. She was staring steadily back at Grandma. "What would you say if I said yes?"

"I'd..." Grandma was speechless. "...I'd be thrilled, of course, dear! But... when did this..."

"_Happen_?" I finished for her, placing my hands on my hips.

Mum finally _looked _straight at Seville and I, who were both staring back at her expectantly.

This couldn't be happening.

Seville and I - we-we already had our thing. What would... what would happen now?

And on top of that... why would Mum... how could she...?

"I know this is a lot to take in, guys," Mum sauntered over to us and pulled us both closer to her by the shoulders. "But... _if_ he or she physically survived the attack, you two are going to have a younger brother or sister."  
>"Mum... I..." I really didn't know where to start on just how wrong - <em>cruel<em> - this was. "Our father is _dead_," I pushed away from her, scowling. "and you're telling us that you're going to be having a _baby_ in the same minute?"

Mum frowned at me. "Do you think I planned for your father to be-"

"Who was this guy?" Seville broke in, narrowing his eyes. "I think you're keeping us from the fact that you knew exactly who he was, _and _why he attacked you."

Mum certainly looked uncomfortable now...

But I had enough.

I had enough of all these secrets.

Looking past Grandma, I saw that Sweeney wasn't in here anymore.

Huh. I didn't even hear him leave.

Shaking my head, I brushed past Mum and stormed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Mum turned to watch me, as did Grandma.

"Out - as usual." I didn't look back.

I closed the door gently.

Why? I'm not sure.

I just didn't feel the need to slam it that hard.

Sweeney wasn't out here. He must've gone back up to his shop.

I placed one hand upon the wooden baluster, standing at the foot of the stairs for... well, I didn't keep track of how long.

Something about this just seemed so... wrong.

I knew Mum couldn't help getting pregnant again.

So why was I so mad at her?

She knew Seville and I were perfectly fine without another sibling.

Another sibling.

That just blew my mind.

The sound of rumbling from above made me look up; Flashes of light were seen dancing through the gloomy gray clouds.

Hm, I supposed it really was going to rain soon.

About time.

Without hesitation, I quickly began up the stairs, refusing to go back inside just to hear more of the crap I heard earlier.

I was due for another visit to the barbershop anyway.

* * *

><p><strong><em>So yes, Valerie and Seville's mother is pregnant again. And yes, I do believe it's logically correct. I always thought of her as being in her midlate 30's, and, you know... I think that's right._**

**_Amri and Benny were attacked by someone whom they've met before, and whom has a... _grudge_ against them, and the whole Lovett family, I suppose you could say._**

**_More trouble for the whole gang, I suppose (no, this really isn't the whole gang. everyone knows that the true Sweeney Todd gang is Sweeney, Mrs. Lovett, Toby, and Anthony, because that guy just won't leave them alone. ^^ ah, really, no offense to Anthony fans. but wouldn't you agree that those four are the ones who get into the most antics? "FML" antics, but all the same... antics)._**

**_Oh! I'd almost completely forgotten: I had the worst Halloween ever. x.x I don't want to start using this story as means to rant on all of my author's notes - and in fact, I might just talk about it as my new addition to the Rant Section on my profile - but I really did. This was the most unproductive Halloween I've ever experienced. If you don't care, you don't have to read anymore, but... this just needed to come out in typed-up words, because yelling about it aloud in real life wasn't satisfactory enough._**

**_I went out trick-or-treating with my brother and his friend. We were... edging our way towards the school that we used to go to, because apparently, some "hardcore" kids were planning on egging it. One of the guys who was planning this was another one of my brother's friends._**

**_We waited around the school yard for... I'd say almost an hour, at least. Wasting the night away. Then they finally showed themselves, and supposedly, they forgot to bring the eggs, even though that was the whole reason they were coming out in the first place. So when they finally got the eggs, one of the dumbasses goes right up to the door and throws it at the window. They all made a mad dash, and I just leasurely followed. Hey; I didn't do anything._**

**_They all had to go early after throwing only two eggs, because it was a school night. We got hardly any candy at all. And I had to tag along behind those idiots while they threw glass bottles in the street and watched them break. Just... how stupid can you get? I must not be a teenager yet, because I honestly don't see how someone can get joy out of vandalism._**

**_My brother isn't even like that. He's way better when it's just the two of us. Like I said: We're Sweeney Todd fanatics. Around guys his age, he just turns into someone he's not. -_- Those guys didn't even know what Sweeney Todd was. *Insert disgusted gasp here* _**

**_So... my brother wasn't throwing anything. He was just... too social with those jerks he calls friends. _**

**_This just goes to show: Do NOT do something just because a bunch of other people are doing it. If this is what it means to be a teenager - according to my brother and his friends - then I wish I could've just stayed a kid (which I still feel like I am)._**

**_Sorry I have so much to say. I haven't updated in a while. _**

**_Hopefully the next one won't take as long. :) Oh, and I hope you all had a better Halloween than I did._**


	22. Some Degenerate Scumbag

_**Chapter 22**_

I nearly busted the door down, though the bell at the top still remained hanging. I suppose no one can open and close a door harder than Sweeney.

I knew it was a bad place to let out my anger; Right in front of Mr. Todd, who could easily pick me up and throw me out the window.

But the barber, as I actually looked in his direction, didn't look mad at _me_. I mean... he looked mad. Just not at me.

He wasn't even looking at me, actually.

He was facing the tall, cracked mirror that sat nearer to the opposite wall of his desk.

His eyes weren't seeing me... or even himself, for that matter.

I decided not to pay this much mind; He always looked like that.

"So," I strolled over to stand by him, instictively rubbing my hands together after feeling the freezing cold air grip me. "Did you hear that? Mum is having another baby, and Dad is laying in a gas station parking lot, probably bleeding to death as we speak if he hasn't already."

Sweeney's eyes flicked in my direction quite briefly, studying me in silence. He only spoke when they found their way back to staring at each crack in the glass mirror. "I never spoke."

A scream of frustration was tearing my chest in half, but I didn't let it out. "Well, aren't _you_ great support!"

"You never said you needed support." Sweeney pointed out evenly.

"Yeah, but wouldn't you expect me to?" I snapped. "It's like... she's just... picking up and moving on."

"Who?"

"My mother!"

Sweeney immediately shook his head. "She's not."

"How do _you _know?"

"I've known her for longer than you," Sweeney replied. "We never agreed on anything, but... sometimes, the only way to really know something about a person is to disagree with them."

"No it's not," I flipped around and stalked right on back over to the chest to plop down beside it and throw my head down over the surface. "You're just thinking negatively again."

"And you're not?" He inquired - and though I couldn't see him with my back turned, I could tell he raised a brow.

"I... ugh-I-just... shut up." I covered my head with my hands.

I heard him let out a small, amused outtake of breath, like the beginning of a chuckle. Then his footsteps across the creaky wood on the floor.

He sat down in the chair and, judging by the sound of metal gliding across leather, I could tell he pulled out a razor.

"...You're sick." I mumbled, half impressed with myself for recongnizing that sound so quickly.

"Am I? I don't feel the slightest bit ill."

"You know what I mean!"

Sweeney was silent for a moment. His voice was hushed, not to mention darker, when he finally spoke again. "I am sick. I don't deserve to live."

I picked up my head and glanced back at him, my concern overpowering my anger from earlier. "Well, I... I never said that-"

"I should've died years ago," He went on. "But my heart just wouldn't stop beating."

When he fell silent, I reconsidered what I was about to say. Instead, I said something else. Something that was obviously true.

"It's a fighter, then."

"What?" Sweeney's grip on his razor tightened, and he sat up straight, once again at the defensive.

"Your heart. It's a fighter."

Sweeney blinked down at me, apparently a bit bewildered at this statement. When the words offically sunk in, he looked away from me and snorted. "No, lass. The human heart is pitifully weak."

"Would you claim your heart to be like any other heart, though?" I questioned.

God, our conversations got so laughably deep!

"My heart is heavily... on guard," Sweeney murmured, looking up from where he sat to stare across the room at the cracked mirror again. "Just in case someone comes along, intending to assault it again."

He was absentmindedly playing with the razor in his right hand, his dark eyes fixed on something I couldn't see.

A stab of sympathy stuck me hard at that moment.

But... ugh, _I'm _having problems too!

Why does he do that to me? And how?

He doesn't deserve sympathy. He never did.

He _killed _people.

And yet, he always gave off that "needs-a-hug" vibe.

It... wasn't fair.

"Well, are you just going to sit there?" Sweeney's brisken voice chopped its way into my thoughts.

I looked up at him, the smallest hint of a smile on my face. "What do you propose I do?"

"Something worth more than simply sitting and wasting time," He shot back. "Children your age would be drinking down bottles of gin and working all day if orphaned, back in..."

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes. "Back in _your _days. In workhouses... I'd like to see them try putting _me_ in one of those."

Sweeney ran his thumb over the chase handle of the razor, his eyes suddenly appearing darker than usual. "As would I."

* * *

><p>I sat beside the chest for a good while, shifting around boredly. I occasionally looked up to see Sweeney in the same position and expression each time. He didn't look happy, naturally. His expression was always stony and mirthless, froze in a look of grief.<p>

Had Grandma never tried her hand at cheering him up? Or had she tried for a while, failed countless times, and then gave up?

The latter sounded far more realistic.

It was saddening, really; She seemed to have grown accustomed to Sweeney's negative, gloomy outlook on life. She didn't appear to have any intention of helping him out of it.

With a fairily nervous exhale, I got onto my hands and knees and crawled across the floor, gritting my teeth at the tiny splinters that lodged their way into my palms.

Well, at least I'd have something to occupy myself with.

I reached the spot just beside the barber chair and leaned my back against it, examining my hands and stifling a groan at the sight of blood.

"Back when blood splattered these walls, the floor was far more slick and kept." Sweeney's rough voice startled me.

Eh... a little too much information for my taste, though. I didn't even bother asking why he used to word "slick" rather than just "smooth".

"Of course," He went on with a hint of irritation to his tone. "We hardly ever crawled across the wood. We took to using our legs."

"Very funny," I grumbled. "You're just a bloody riot."

Wait... where did the "bloody" come from?

This guy's vocabulary was starting to rub off on me.

"So," I gritted my teeth once again and carefully attempted to pluck a sliver of wood from my skin. "How's _your _cut doing? Healed yet?"

"Just there," Sweeney answered. "It will scar up nicely, I suppose."

"Nicely?" I grimaced at his cynical tone of voice. "Damn; I thought _I'd _be the first to say something positive about a thin line of impaired skin."

"I wouldn't say "impaired"," Sweeney quietly stated."Just... marked."

"Well," I rolled my eyes. "Congratulations; You're marked."

A silence fell between us again. I didn't mind it that much, actually. Our small talks were fun, but the quiet was nearly just as enjoyable.

Probably because we both used up that time to reload our arguments and retorts before we started blasting them at one another again.

All in good fun, of course.

The next words I spoke surprised me a bit, though; They had nothing to do with what we were just previously talking about.

"A little sibling... FML..."

Just me voicing my thoughts aloud.

What else is new?

Sweeney stopped fiddling with his razor in hand to look down at me with a bewildered glare. "You own a lighthouse?"

"Uh... what?" I looked up at him, confused.

We both stared at one another for a moment, having absolutely no clue what the other was talking about.

In the end, we both just shrugged it off.

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes, unable to hide a small smile.

Sweeney responded silently, with only a shake of his head. Then he went right back to staring idly at the silver blade.

You know... for both of us being from different time periods, we got along... fairly well. Not the _best_, but... we were okay.

We'd be able to get by this way if we really wanted to.

Ugh... and we were going to need it.

* * *

><p>"Stupid. Just... just so friggin' <em>stupid<em>." I muttered angrily.

Seville and I were sitting side by side in the parlor, listening to Mum and Grandma talk some more from inside the bathroom.

Grandma was taking care of Mum's injuries, but at the same time, she was asking such silly things like how long Mum knew she was pregnant, and whether she guessed it to be a boy or a girl.

I was considering asking much different things though: Like "Why did you not tell us before you and Dad left?" and, "What are you doing just sitting there? We need to go find Dad!"

For some reason, I didn't believe they'd listen anyway.

"How is it stupid?" Seville asked. "Grandma is excited; She's going to be having another grandkid."

"Aren't they worried about Dad though? Discussing matters about the baby can wait - can't it?"

Seville frowned at me, but for once, he looked as though he agreed with me. "You're right. We need to go find Dad first. What if there's still a chance that he could be alive?"

"Mum is ignoring it then." I snorted.

"She said that the man who broke into her and Dad's room was... an old rival," Seville told me. "He holds a grudge against the family for some reason."

"She wouldn't tell you his name?" I questioned.

When he shook his head, I scoffed. "We'll just call him "Some Degenerate Scumbag" for now, then."

Seville smirked. "It only fits, and I'm sure Mum won't mind it." He got up from the couch.

"I won't mind what?" Mum's voice broke into our conversation.

She and Grandma were coming out of the bathroom now, and I looked away with a scowl.

"The name Val and I came up with for this... old rival." Seville explained, a dark edge to his voice.

Grandma rolled her eyes and strolled in to sit down. "Yeh two can't go insulting anyone until you've learnt the whole story."

I crossed my arms. "Well, as far as I've heard, you and Mum refuse to tell us. Where should we go from here?"

"Valerie," Mum glared at me sternly. "Don't talk to your grandmother like that, let alone myself."

"Why?" I returned her glare. "Do you think my deceitful ways will end up rubbing off on the baby?"

Mum looked absolutely enraged now, but Grandma beat her to words this time. "We've already got an influence for tha', love. An' 'e's livin' upstairs right now."

"No," Mum spoke up firmly. "This is the last time. I will _not _have that man go anywhere near this child."

"Why not?" I demanded. "He _may_ be..." I paused, catching what I was about to say just in time; Mum still didn't know about the story of this place. She just knew Sweeney looked and acted suspicious (and rude, and ominous, and downright acrimonious. I could go on).

She didn't need to know that he used to murder people. And I didn't need to tell her. Not if I could help it.

"He may be what?" She prompted.

"Un-practiced in manners." Grandma aided me, placing a wrinkled hand on my shoulder.

I looked up at her gratefully.

"Well, I don't need an un-practiced child," Mum stated. "_You_ went through an odd stage that carried on for weeks after we came home from this place," She nodded to Seville as she spoke, then turned to me. "And now _you're_ experiencing the same problem."

"But-but I don't even remem-" Seville's voice broke off.

"Wait jus' a minute, Amri," Grandma stepped past me and pushed me behind her, a hard glare making its way across her features. "If you're thinkin' Mr. Todd's rootin' your children against yeh, yeh'd _never_ been so wrong."

"Why would he do that?" I asked, coming to stand beside Grandma again.

"Why else?" Mum snapped. "He loathes me."

"Why d'yeh s'pose that?" Grandma inquired. "You 'ate 'im... 'e never once said 'e 'ated you."

Mum stood there for a moment, seething still. She, instead of speaking further, stiffly turned away and stormed back into the pie shop. It was soon after confirmed that she had gone out the side door, according to the ringing of a bell and a sudden slam.

"Where do you think she's going?" Seville muttered.

Grandma sighed. "Your mother needs some time alone, is all."

"What about our father - _your _son?" I demanded. "When are we going to go looking for him?"

Grandma flinched. She placed her hand on my upperback and pushed me towards the couch. She then did the same for Seville.

We sat down, both now nervous as to what she was about to say.

Grandma looked down at us steadily for a moment before speaking though, keeping us in bated breath for what felt like an hour. "The man that... attacked your parents went by the name of Geoffrey Turpin."

Turpin.

Turpin.

Turpin...?

Wait just a moment; I think a connection was starting to grow!

Teddy Turpin - from the bookstore.

Judge Turpin - the creep Judge, who else?

Geoffrey Turpin - "Some Degenerate Scumbag"

Well, I'd say that solves that.

I think it was about time we payed Teddy Turpin another visit.

* * *

><p><em><strong>This came out faster than I thought it would.<strong>_

_**And yes, believe it or not, that is all I have to say about this chapter.**_

_**Now onto something that is currently stuck on my brain (in the most pleasant of ways): **_

_**I watched **_**Sleepy Hollow _last night for the first time. I always wanted to, but I just never got around to it. And I must say... I LOVED it! I absolutely adored it! Ichabod Crane is now definitely on my list of top favorite Johnny Depp characters. He's epic. I just loved it (and him) so much, I don't even know how to describe it! XD _**

**_But... just for some reassurance (because I think it'd be hilarious if I actually found a show of hands): Am I_****_ the only one who bursted out laughing at the part where Ichabod was dissecting into that one corpse, and blood squirted out and shot onto the lenses of his goggles? First I was like "WTF?" because it happened so abruptly, and then I started laughing while I was still shocked. Then I, of course, laughed even harder at the scene just after that. If you've seen the movie, you'd know what I'm talking about. _**

**_THAT right there is acknowledgement that only Tim Burton can make blood hilarious. _**

**_Or maybe that gruesome Tim Burton stuff is starting to plague my brain (in, once again, the most pleasant way possible). _**

**_Long story short: That movie is a perfect Halloween movie. I wish I could've watched it last month, when it would've been more appropriate. _**


	23. Officially Screwed

**_Chapter 23_**

"Come on, Sev, we're leaving."

Seville hung back. "Are you sure?"

I paused at the shop door, stealing a glance down at Grandma's sleeping figure at the booth before rolling my eyes at my brother's question. "No, Sev. Let's just stay here and wonder for the rest of our lives."

Seville shoved past me and opened the door. "Fine. Let's go and come back. The sooner, the better."

We tried to be as quiet as possible as we opened and soon closed the door behind us. After Grandma had told us the name of our parents' attacker, she had gone into the shop to sit and think to herself. She fell asleep there, as I said earlier.

Mum was still sitting in the courtyard, but she was very much awake. Even though it was well known that Grandma was, in fact, a light sleeper, Mum was the real reason why we were keeping silent.

As we crossed further out onto the cobblestone street, I took a hesitant glance up towards the sloped window. It looked very dark from below, but I could still make out Sweeney's tall outline. He was peering through the glass at us.

He knew we were leaving the shop.

I cringed, and I barred Seville from going any further with my arm; If the barber was displeased with whatever it was you were doing, it was abnormally hard to deter him from pulling those blades out.

But Mr. Todd was well aware of us staring back. He neatly dipped his head in a curt nod, as if prompting us to continue.

"What do you think that means?" Seville whispered, leaning towards me as he spoke without keeping his eyes off the man.

I rolled my eyes and turned my back on the building to lead the way down the street. "Who cares? He's not killing us."

Seville soon reluctantly followed, but he glanced over his shoulder every now and again.

I briefly covered his hand with my own. "It's _okay_. D'you think he's gonna jump out the window and attack you?"

Seville stiffly snapped his head back to face ahead. "No."

I rolled my eyes yet again and pulled my hand away from his. Then we sped up our pace down Fleet Street, until the pie shop was no longer visible to our backs.

* * *

><p>It seemed like only now that this street was confusing. Seville and I had been walking for a while, and no luck so far in finding the bookstore.<p>

The one that Teddy Turpin worked at.

All the gloomy gray buildings seemed to blend into one another. It was as if the building was hiding...

I was short inches away from giving up hope, and telling Seville that we should just go back to the shop and stop searching - perhaps look for it on a sunnier day.

And... w-what? You thought I was going to say someone came out and helped us?

Nah, I really _did _manage to get words out without being interrupted.

'Bout time...

"Sev, we're never going to find it! Not like this!" I exclaimed frustratedly.

Seville stopped his walking to look back at me, as if he were about to say something. As if on cue, however (a "shitty life" cue), a single raindrop fell and landed on the bridge of my nose.

"Aw," I cursed. "Shit."

To follow that single drop, several others began falling. They pelted against the cobblestone street... and us.

"I _knew_ it was going to rain." I muttered, crossing my arms.

"And you didn't say anything?" Seville snapped.

"I thought it would've fallen already, and if not, later!" I defended myself. "We should've found the friggin' bookstore already, anyway!"

"Bookstore?" A bewildered voice from behind made us jump.

We flipped around.

"What do you want with old man Turpin?" Derek was leasurely strolling over to meet us.

I stomped towards him to make his walk shorter and gripped his shoulder threateningly. "Were you following us?"

"C'mon!" Derek smirked. "Me? Follow? You _must_ be joking!" He looked up into the cloudy sky, squinting and blinking drops of rain from his brown eyes. His smile was still broad, despite the colorless atmosphere. "Nah - I was just stalking you."

Without hesitation, my fist flew forward, aiming for his arm.

"Ow!" He took the blow with a yelp. "What was that for?"

"You know damn well!" I snapped, as he took to rubbing his most likely now-bruised arm.

"Derek, _I _for one am happy that you showed up," Seville came over to stand with us. "We need your help."

"No we don't." I mumbled grudgingly.

Derek's interest was grabbed all too quickly though; Another chance to show me up.

Pfft.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Well, you heard Valerie: We're trying to find a bookstore. Er... old man Turpin's place?" Seville explained.

Derek nodded. "I know where that is."

I scowled. "If you _knew _where it was, why didn't you-"

"Val," Seville gave me a stern glare. "Cut it out. We need his help," When I looked away, he grabbed my arm._ "Admit it."_

I sighed; I _could _admit that Derek always tended to appear when we needed him most...

How did he do that so perfectly?

"Val?" Seville snapped me out of my thoughts.

I looked up, startled. "Oh-okay," I turned my head to face forward once again, refusing to look at Derek. "Just... take us there."

"Alright, alright, I'll take you," Derek immediately took the lead, looking pretty thrilled to be needed again. "But I'm _not_ going in with you. The last time I went in there, Turpin threatened me to stay out. No clue why."

I rolled my eyes. "It's a mystery."

* * *

><p>Well, as expected, Derek brought us there in no time. Even through the rain. Without stopping once.<p>

And I can't lie; I was impressed...

Just momentarily in this state, of course.

It wasn't like I was going to show this to him either.

We could've gotten any guy who grew up on these streets to take us there. Like Sweeney Todd, for example. You can't be a mass murderer and not know your way around the streets, am I right?

But Sweeney would question far too much... if we even managed to get him out of his shop in the first place. He probably wouldn't have taken too kindly to a decendent of his arch enemy either.

With Derek though... it was pretty much like don't ask, don't tell with him. Just, you know, the other way around; I don't tell. He never asks.

So anyway, we were approaching the shop. I spotted Ted's neat brown hair - slightly graying, as I'd never noticed before - through the window.

"There he is," Derek backed up nervously. "I've got to get out of here."

"No, wait," Seville grabbed his arm. "If you leave, we'll just get lost on our way out again."

"_There_ you go, Sev," I groaned. "Just when he was about to leave, and-"

"He'll kill me if I even go near his shop," Derek motioned around us, ignoring my voice. "And by the looks of it, I've already accomplished that."

"Then..." Seville looked around for a few heartbeats, then his eyes caught on to something. "Go hide in the alley." He pointed just beside the bookstore where, surely enough, a gloomy alleyway resided.

"I'm _not _going in there." Derek was backing up further still, his eyes wide with fright.

"Scared of the dark?" I scoffed.

"I'm scared of Fleet Street's dark," Derek stated, his tone suggesting he had just corrected me. "The sad thing is that I've never gone out of London. Not once! D'you realize how frustrating it is to wake up every morning and know you're gonna be terrified by merely walking down the street?"

I glanced around frantically, now seriously starting to get annoyed. "Okay - just get inside that shop next to Turpin's. It looks abandoned."

Derek frowned in its direction distastefully. "It looks as though it had been-" He stopped mid-speech when he saw my hard glare, and he sighed. "Ugh, fine. Just... don't take long."

Hurriedly, he dashed for the small, broken down, colorless building that neighbored Teddy's.

With slight difficulty, Derek wrenched the door open. It let out a loud squeak, to which Ted's head lifted from whatever it was he was doing at his desk to turn and look outside.

At the sight of us, a look of understanding flashed in his eyes. He gingerly motioned for us to come in.

After taking one last look at Derek, who's figure was swallowed up in shadows (I could barely see through the glass of the window outside - it was too dark - sorta the equivalent of the alleyway's darkness), I shrugged at Seville, then led the way to the door.

This one, however, opened with ease.

"So, you're back... children," Ted murmured, resting both his elbows on the desk and bringing his hands together in a thoughtful gesture. "And what is it I can do you for?"

My cautious stare focused on him. Cautious why, exactly?

Every person I know of who was related to him so far were horrible people! That's why!

Who's to say he's any different?

"We've come to ask a few things of you," Seville explained, beating me to it. "About... uh... history, I suppose you could say."

Mr. Turpin's eyes glinted strangely behind his spectacles, but he didn't say anything. He knew Seville wasn't done speaking yet.

"Do you have any brothers?" I carried on instead, however. "Or," I faltered when I realized that question was far too staightforward. "any siblings in general?"

Ted brought his arms back down to his sides before he finally spoke. "I had two brothers. Their names were Geoffrey and Arnold."

"Erm... _had _two brothers?" Seville stammered.

"Yes," Teddy's words were stiff, nearly uncomfortable, but not quite. "Arnold passed away in a... carriage accident."

"Oh," I frowned. "I'm-I'm sorry. We didn't know."

He didn't seem to hear my apology, however. His gaze was resting upon the opposite wall, his expression distant. "Geoffrey, however..."

"What?" Seville urged.

I realized with faint embarrassment that we were _both _leaning forward, anticipating his answer. We were a blunt two, weren't we?

"Geoffrey is still alive. Though I wouldn't call him... I wouldn't call him my brother any longer," Ted broke from his daydreaming to look up at us. "He's not how he used to be."

"In what way?" I demanded.

"He's changed. I haven't heard from him since he... ran away. Years ago." Ted now looked fairily saddened, and I felt faint guilt for questioning him so sharply.

"We're sorry for bringing it up," I told him gently. "But... we just learned that our parents were attacked by your brother. Our father might be dead."

_"What?" _Ted was up in a heartbeat, gaping at us disbelievingly. He slowly navigated around the desk and approached us. "Geoffrey... n-no," His voice was growing hoarse with shock. "Not again... not again - no!"  
>He turned his back on us and came to stand by the window again, pressing his hand against the pane. "I don't believe it."<p>

It was weird to hear him sound so... worried. From what I gathered, he was normally a very confident person. According to Sev, as well.

"Wh-what?" I stammered.

If my heart wasn't pounding at a dangerous rate before, it certainly was now.

"This has happened before?" Seville asked, a freaked edge to his voice.

"My brother is out for revenge," Ted told us urgently, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Seville and I were still absolutely clueless. "You two need to stay in your grandmother's shop from now on. Do _not _venture outside."

"Revenge?" I tried, lost.

"Why? What's going to happen?" Seville demanded.

"I'll tell you after the law finds him. Oh," Mr. Turpin pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. "I never thought it'd come to this..."

"Please tell us what's going on first," I begged. "Please? It could be useful information."

Teddy blinked at me irritably, and I couldn't lie and say I wasn't somewhat relieved that his usual, every day attitude was still shining through. "What are you kids - detectives?" He came over to guide us for the door by our shoulders. "Go home. Be quick. I'll give your grandmother a call when it's safe to go back outside... no clue why she let you out in the first place."

"First of all: That's not our home. Second: She, uh... she didn't," I confessed, looking down at the floor. "She fell asleep in the shop. We took that as a chance of getting out."

"Well, it's a right stupid idea. Now get going." He snapped, opening the door and shoving us out.

"But-"

_SLAM._

"Well, _shit_." I crossed my arms grudgingly.

Seville frowned, but his thoughts seemed to still be occupied. Too occupied to worry about Ted at the moment.

"C'mon," He tugged on the sleeve of my shirt and quickly made for the shop beside the bookstore. "We need to go get Derek. He's still in there."

"You sure?" I followed him, unable to help a smirk. "We _could_ just leave him in there."

"Ugh, Val... you're bad. Y'know that?"

He didn't wait for a response from me and instead reached for the knob.

The door opened a bit easier, since Derek already tried his hand at it.

To my suprise, there was a small table just beside the door with a large candle sitting upon it. It lit up most of the room, which was positively _cluttered _with books. Books of all sort.

This didn't exactly look like a book _store_, however. It looked more like it was once a library, or a study of some kind.

"Valerie? Seville? Is that you?" A tiny voice whispered from a place near the back of the room. A place we couldn't see from where we were standing.

"Yeah, Barker Boy. It's us." I cautiously began walking down the corridor of shelves, looking around with careful eyes.

"Come here. I found something." Derek's voice was far louder now - not as frightened.

After I briefly exchanged a bewildered glance with Seville, I led the way through the room, taking looks here and there.

It was dim, but still illuminated by the eerie candlelight. Just enough for one to find their way around.

"I'm in here." His voice sounded closer this time.

Seville and I took a turn to the left, and a door which was opened to a crack came into sight.

"It's okay," Derek poked his head out the moment we laid eyes on the door. "It's safe."

Without hesitation, we strode forward.

"What is it?" I asked, opening the door wider to pass up the threshold and step in.

"Look," Derek came to an old-looking, wooden drawing table. "The pieces of parchment."

The table had yet another candle, its light flickering down on the wooden surface, and a capped, dusty bottle of old ink.

I stood beside him to look down at what he was gesturing to, squinting as I examined the sheets; I wasn't exactly used to reading by candlelight.

At the top, it read:

_Suspects_

There were many different names written down underneath, like a list. Random names. Names I'd never even heard before.

One in particular naturally caught my eyes:

_Geoffrey Turpin_

_Reasoning for Suspicions:__ Constant snapping, mood swings, vanishing in the middle of the night, my brother._

_Side Notes:__ Though it pains me._

"What do you think it means?" Seville's voice startled me; I was too set on the words to notice he had walked over.

"It... looks like a list of suspects for a crime comitted." Derek observed.

"Not just any crime," I corrected them. "A _murder_."

At the bottom corner of the page, it said in nearly a scribble:

_For the murder of, most recently, John Ramone. And many others._

John Ramone. Another name I never heard of.

But that didn't matter. All that mattered was that Geoffrey Turpin was among suspected for a killing spree that went down years ago.

If he was the killer, and there was a pause in time where he stopped for a while... was he just starting up again? My parents were the first victims. Mum survived.

If he found her gone from the spot he left her to bleed...

Oh. _Shit_.

* * *

><p><em><strong>c: Valerie said the word "shit" three times in this chapter.<strong>_

_**Hangin' '**__**round Mort Rainey recently, are we? Sweeney's not good enough for you? You needed more Depp?**_

_**I virtually punched you, Val. I just didn't say anything. Because I honestly can't say I blame you.**_

_**So... about this chapter...**_

_**Huh. Well, I suppose we learned by now that Teddy Turpin isn't exactly the bad guy. BUT, his brother Geoffrey is. He's a very bad man. And now... well, that ending should explain itself. If it didn't, blame the fact that I didn't sleep at all, so I'm a little tired (the worst of it didn't even kick in yet), so in which case whatever it was I just finished typing might not even make sense.**_

_**Meh, I'll check it later.**_

_**Oh! Sweeney Todd was on TV last night (well, not even last night, considering it was 4:00 in the morning by the time it was over. we'll just say... a few hours ago). I watched it with my Mom and my brother. That movie just never gets old. ;D**_

_**Also (and this is something I'm really curious about), is anyone among my reviewers a fan of "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog"? I watched it a couple days ago, and I loved it! It reminded me of like... a cross between Sweeney Todd and Megamind. The first half reminds me more of Megamind, but the final few minutes near the end is where it gave off that Sweeney Todd vibe. At least for me (when Dr. Horrible starts using words like "kill" and "die" more often, you'll know when the change off is about to happen).**_

_**It's a musical, too (but that was obvious, considering the title). If you've never watched it, or have never even heard of it, GO WATCH IT. It's up in parts on youtube. There's three acts. It's really short.**_

_**So yes. That is all I have to say. This author's note is beginning to border on lengthy again (or already is), so I'll just cut it now.**_

_**Please review, if you will.**_


	24. Targeted

_**Chapter 24**_

We rushed back home-uh... I mean... back to the pie shop. Derek parted with us halfway, so's we didn't look as suspicious as we already did... but mostly because his Mum would kill him if she saw that he'd disappeared from the house in the first place.

Seville and I entered into the shop to find it empty.

"You think they even know we're gone?" My brother asked.

"I'm _sure _they do." I answered.

Somehow, they must've. We could hardly get away with anything anymore. You know... considering the amount of adults around here being so little. But I also had this funny feeling that Mr. Todd kept silent about seeing us leave, if all he did to acknowledge our exit was a small nod of his head.

He could've just wanted us dead though. I could've been wrong about him from the start...

"Just act normal," Seville broke into my thoughts of the muderous barber, leaning towards me just slightly. "I hate creating conspiracies, but it looks like we'll just have to make do for now."

I only nodded.

Seville broke away from me to head out the side door; Probably to see if Mum was still outside.

I, on the other hand, turned in the different direction for a change and walked into the parlor. And what I saw next made me jump backwards.

Grandma stood leaning against the doorframe into the hall, glaring at me hard. I took to regaining my composure while she took to thinking up the right words to tell me off with. But before I could do so, she seemed to have already found the right ones.

"Why?"

Well, I never said they were exactly what I expected.

Frowning, I tilted my head a little and took a small step into the room. "Why what?" I found my way over to the back of the couch to lean my hands on, still staring at her from across the room.

"Yeh bloody know what I'm talkin' about, young lady." Her voice didn't heighten... but her accent definitely thickened. "Where in the bloody 'ell do yeh think you're goin' when there's a damned murderer runnin' about town?"

I crossed my arms, straightening up from leaning forward against the couch. "Which murderer are we talking about?"

Grandma's eyes flashed with anger. "Leave Mr. Todd out'ta this, Valerie."

"Why can't he be apart of it? He's killed countless men anyway!" I sharply jerked my head up at the ceiling as I spoke.

"I promised 'im a quiet, peaceful life upstairs, without murder," Grandma seethed, her voice eventually drifting away from sounding angry even though she was still glaring at me. "The last thing 'e needs to be reminded of is 'is past."

I didn't speak. I really didn't have anything to say or, for the most part, criticise about that.

So Grandma pressed on. "In any case, why were you an' Seville out an' about at a time like this?"

"We..." I hesitated. "... needed to see... Teddy Turpin."

"Teddy Turpin?" Grandma blinked at me, faint surprise behind her eyes. "What for?"

"Because he told us stuff that you and Mum weren't!" I snapped. ""Maybe Geoffrey Turpin's brother is someone we can trust to give us the truth.", we thought." I brought my hands back down to rest by my hips, clenching them into fists. "Well, guess what? He didn't tell us shit!"

_"Valerie," _Grandma hissed. "watch your mouth."

I ended up obeying; I didn't need swearing to get my point across anyway. "So what happened with Geoffrey, Grandma? Why is he the way he is, when Ted told us that he used to be okay with the world? Why does he want Mum and Dad dead?"

With each question I asked, Grandma's eyes appeared to get wider and wider. "I thought yeh said Ted didn't tell yeh anything."

"He completely ignored the questions I just asked you," I told her. "All he told us was that Geoffrey was his brother, and that this wasn't the first time he attacked someone."

"That should be enough information." Grandma stated briskly. She then navigated around the couch and to the entrance.

"W-what?" I flipped around on the spot to face her.

"No more pokin' 'round. D'you 'ear me?" She retained a stern tone of voice, much like she used to "greet" me into the room about a minute ago.

"This is unfair," I muttered bitterly, glaring at her. I couldn't help but show a little bit of the concern I still felt on the inside as I added. "If you have worries, you should be able to share them with us."

Grandma frowned at me. Guilt and still-throbbing worry visible in her features made her expression darken considerably. "It's _my_ burden to carry. Not yours." With that said, she turned her back on me to a full and left. The slam of a door told me she was already leaving through the side door.

I groaned and climbed over the back of the couch to collapse back-first into the cushions. There, I lifted an arm to rest the back of my hand against my forehead and close my eyes.

* * *

><p>The dampness of a hard, cold floor made my eyes snap open; I wasn't on the couch anymore.<p>

As I lifted my head, I noted the draft that was swirling about the lower half of my body. The upper half, however, met waves of heat.

Where was I?

It was then that, as my vision fully focused, I caught sight of the dark crimson splotches that attached themselves to the walls.

My heart nearly stopped.

I dared turn my head a little, only to stare straight at the blaring oven from across the room.

The sound of sure footsteps and the faint pattering of droplets against fabric made me crane my neck yet again to peer at the source, almost sure that whiplash would hit me soon.

That same unfamiliar, young boy took one last look over his shoulder before dropping the straight razor he was holding to the floor. Then he opened the large, steel door and disappeared behind it, not bothering to close it behind him. The sound of his fading footsteps up the stairs beyond the door was the last of him that I heard.

I gingerly got to my feet and headed across the room to the door, where I peered down at the razor that the boy had dropped. The blade was still wet with warm, fresh blood.

Now frantic, I turned around.

_Oh no. Not this again._

Sweeney was, as I'd left him last time, knelt beside the corpse of a woman with once-golden hair.

The only difference being...?

A slit of red was incisioned across his throat. Blood was gently trickling from the wound, wetting the black and white cravat which was loosely hung around his neck. His white shirt was also soon tarnished when the liquid seeped onto his chest.

"Mr. Todd," I hurriedly dropped to the hard floor, cringing when my knee hit down the wrong way. I crawled back up to the spot in which I was sitting before to stare at his droopy figure, my jaw agape. "W-what... why...?"

He didn't reply to my questionable mumbling. I knew he wouldn't.

The more blood he lost, the lower his head rested. It was soon low enough to begin dripping upon the face of the corpse. Lucy.

Her face was, in no time at all, almost completely covered. It looked as though she were wearing a red mask. A mask made of her husband's blood.

Unshed tears stung the back of my eyes as I crawled around Lucy's legs to sit beside the barber.

I truly had no idea why I felt so upset about this; I was somewhat aware that it was a dream... or at least not actually happening.

It was as if I were feeling someone else's emotions at that moment.

Why would that boy - who ever he was - do this? He looked so young. So unlike someone who _would _do a thing like this. So unlike Sweeney Todd.

At this thought, I turned to look back at Sweeney again. He was trembling a little now.

Whether it was from the cold draft near the floor, or from blood loss, it certainly made things harder to keep from trying to talk to him some more. Or from trying to do something, anything, to perhaps distract him from dying.

Besides these feeble little movements, he was deadly still. His dark, empty eyes were still open though. They were gazing intently upon Lucy's face, unblinking. If one looked close enough, they'd be able to see a spark of love behind the barber's ebony orbs.

Love. Almost enough to keep him from succumbing to death for a few more shaky heartbeats. But not nearly enough to will the unbearable injury away, both physical and mental.

"I'm sorry."

I didn't know why I said it. Like the pain I felt eating away at my heart, I as well felt as though I were speaking on someone else's behalf. Apologizing on someone else's behalf...

"N-no..."

I looked up, shocked, when the barber actually spoke. He wasn't looking at me, but... I somehow knew for a fact that the words were only meant for myself.

"No," He repeated, straining on a hoarse tone to make his words clearer. "No, y-you're n-_ot_." On that last forced syllable, his voice twisted and broke off violently as another spurt of blood erupted from his throat, gagging him.

I shut my eyes immediately and turned away, now trembling myself. "W-what?" I stammered through gritted teeth.

It was hard to watch. The fact that he had found the strength to speak at all was appalling. Almost... unhuman.

And how did he hear me? If this was a dream... I mean... had he just been ignoring me?

Before I could open my eyes and turn back around to investigate, I felt a hand sharply grab the back of my shoulder. I gasped and flipped around, only to blink once and find myself lying on the couch once again with Seville standing over me.

"Val, get down!"

"What?"

Without replying, Seville practically picked me up from the couch by my underarms and pushed me to the floor.

"Sev!" I exclaimed, outraged.

The room was much darker. It was nighttime.

"Be quiet and stay still." He dropped down to the floor next to me, lying on his stomach.

"What's going on?" I whispered.

"Mr. T's takin' care of it." Grandma's voice chimed in as she slipped around the threshold to the parlor, her back against the wall. Mum was standing right next to her, her head low and trembling.

"Taking care of _what?" _I demanded; They lost me at "Val, get down".

Silence greeted my words, and I stifled a groan of frustration.

We sat there with no noise for a while, until we heard the creak of the side door from in the shop. The sound of a straight razor unsheathing sent chills down my spine. Footsteps, and then a low growl.

"Geoffrey," Sweeney's cold voice seemed to travel down the hall, loud enough for anyone in the household to hear, no matter what room they were in. "Get away from here."

"Ah, Todd! Long time, no see," The creepy, fairily nasal voice of an unfamiliar man responded. "Though, I must admit: I'm rather disappointed; If the rumors are true, that is."

"Rumors?" Sweeney gnarled.

"That the great Sweeney Todd has sworn off killing. Is it true, my friend? Please say it isn't so." Geoffrey's tone was a pure mock.

There was another silence in which the air sat dead still. No one breathed.

Then Sweeney exhaled, breaking it. It wasn't exactly a sigh. More like his regular breathing heightened in volume.

His voice was even-toned and curt when he finally spoke. "My work is done."

"Really?" Geoffrey scoffed. "Because _I _bet that Benjamin Barker's ghost is still looming around you, refusing to leave. When's the last time you spoke with _him_, Mr. Todd? His opinion matters as well as anyone else's, no matter how much you'd like to deny it."

_I _had bet, without even being able to see Sweeney, that an ugly scowl was sharply contorting his face.

"Get out, Geoffrey." His voice maintained its monotonous sound, but I still heard the faintest threat behind it.

"Or else what, Barker? Killing is out of the question, apparently." The front door was slowly being creaked open, as if they were gradually backing outside. "Now tell me... where are the Lovett's? - the family that you obviously can't protect - where are they, Ben?"

No reply.

Sweeney refused to.

"Come now, Benjy... there's hiding behind lies... and then there's being silent. _I'd _rather hear your pitiful excuse. You haven't the slightest idea how much it amuses me..."

That did it.

The pie shop door swung wide open, banging against the wall and knocking the bell off the top (huh. I'm seeing that a lot lately). Sweeney had bolted outside, chasing Geoffrey down.

"Oh bugger," Grandma pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head all the while. "The world's gone mad."

Mum only hunkered closer to the wall, watching the window cautiously.

Hurriedly, I slipped away from Seville to crawl up to the window and pull the curtains back, keeping as low as possible.

"Val! No!" Seville reached out to pull me back, but he wasn't fast enough.

Sweeney and Geoffrey were, in every sense, sparring. Knife against razor blade.

When Geoffrey turned in our direction, Seville and I ducked down.

"Valerie, Seville," Mum was glaring at us hard. "_Get away_ from the window. You're going to get hurt."

The curtains fell back into place.

"What if Mr. Todd gets hurt?" I countered, turning my head a little to cast a glare right back her way. "Will you care?"

Mum didn't reply, but her eyes were lit with exasperation.

A thud against the window and the clink of a utensil against the cobblestone street broke into the argument. We all looked up in alarm. The two men and their figures were able to be made out through the curtains.

Mr. Todd with nothing, and Geoffrey... still with a knife.

Then -

"Holy _shit!"_

An arm crashed through the glass - and it was blatantly clear that it belonged to Sweeney. Glass fell all around us, and a few drops of freshly spilled blood landed on my face. I dropped back down to my hands and knees and backed off from the window, my heart pounding in my throat.

"That'll need repairing, boys!" Grandma called, her cross expression not leaving for a second.

She was awfully confident in Sweeney's abilities, so it seemed. Maybe even more so than he himself was at that moment.

Through the curtains, I could see Sweeney gritting his teeth. A hateful glower was directed at Geoffrey, who stood a few feet beside him.

"I'd say we're done here." He stated quietly in that nasally voice of his.

Mr. Todd just sneered, his upper lip curled and his jaw set dangerously, like some kind of pissed off tiger.

"But just to make sure we won't bump into one another again..." Geoffrey paused in speech, and I tilted my head, as if thinking I could perhaps hear better.

But the tiny click of a trigger really _did _make my heart stop for what _should've _been slow heartbeats, at least. Then the sharp, earsplitting bang of a gunshot rang through the air.

Faster than I was prepared for.

Sweeney gasped. His arm slid out from the jagged hole he had made in the glass as he fell back-first into the street, ripping a rather large gash out of his sleeve.

* * *

><p><em><strong>O_O<strong>_

_**Because slamming Sweeney's arm through a window and then shooting him had to be done.**_

_**Erm... review?**_


	25. Always No

_**Chapter 25**_

Mum screamed.

Seville and I gasped.

Grandma... wait, where did she go?

As I turned, I found her missing from her spot.

But only moments later, the sound of footsteps in the shop told me she had already left before any of us thought to. I quickly hurried after her, breaking into a run to keep up.

We exited the shop and rounded the building. Grandma reached Sweeney faster than I did, and she was already knelt beside his shaking figure by the time I approached.

She was leaning down to speak quietly - incisively - to him, sympathy and comforting apparently long forgotten about.

"Is he okay?" I stammered, remaining standing and looking down at them both carefully.

Geoffrey was gone completely. He just... vanished.

Mum was still inside, watching us with fear in her eyes. Seville was rapping his arms around her, his expression suggesting he wanted to be out there with us, but decided to stay for Mum.

Sweeney just grunted as he gradually came to sit, holding up the arm that was only bruised from the fall to grip his bloody, wounded shoulder.

"'S'that where, love?" Grandma murmured, reaching out to stroke his non-injured arm with a gentle hand.

"With every bloody bone in my body, I swear to you." Sweeney grumbled, pain still evident in his voice.

"What happened?" I asked, my eyes round.

"Isn't it obvious?" Sweeney turned his glare on me. His eyes were squinting and his teeth were still bared. Drops of blood were beginning to trail down his face like tears. "I dodged it, Valerie." His fingers tightened their clamp on his shoulder as more blood seeped through them.

"Alrigh', Mr. T, that's enough." Grandma lifted his arm over her head to rest it upon her shoulders. "Val, 'elp me, would yeh?"

I obediently rushed over to kneel down and grab his other arm, copying what Grandma had done and throwing it over my neck. Together, we got him to his feet.

Sweeney growled. "Who said I couldn't walk on-" He grunted - this time in pain - and interrupted his own speech. Then he went on weakly. "my own?"

"We can drop yeh so's you can experiment, hm?" Grandma offered.

He just huffed grudgingly in response, then turned his head away from her. Therefore... looking in my direction instead.

"Hey," I smiled up at him as we began walking. "At least it wasn't your fault this time."

Yeah. He finally just settled for looking straight ahead.

After a brief disagreement by the stairs, in which Sweeney insisted we leave him be so he can take care of his injuries himself, to which Grandma replied snippily, "If we do that, we can just as bloody well say goodbye to yeh for good.", we finally made it back inside.

* * *

><p>"<em>God<em>, how did you even survive this?"

Sweeney stiffened.

Whether it was from the question, Grandma pulling shards of glass from his arm, or me pressing a wet wash cloth against his shoulder, something had abruptly displeased him.

"I unfortunately don't believe in magic, Valerie," He sneered the words. "So you'll just have to ask a doctor... or perhaps a specialist in guns."

Grandma scowled as she, shard by shard, ridded the barber's arm of glass. She appeared to be in a whole different world, muttering to herself. When she heard what Mr. Todd had just said, however, she bared her teeth angrily and quite sharply ripped another sharp piece from his skin.

He hissed and yanked his arm away, glowering at her. "Must I be the one to advise you go a _tad_ gentler, woman?"

I rolled my eyes; They were bickering almost as much as Seville and I had been, most recently.

I now knew why Grandma wanted me to take to caring for the gunshot wound - the most dire of all his injuries - rather than taking out the glass; It didn't matter on the person, Sweeney would bite their head off if they caused him pain, accidental or not.

Judge Turpin's death proved that.

But anyway, it was still really amazing and, dare I say it, relieving, that Mr. Todd had actually survived the gunshot. I mean, I know a shot to the head or chest was much more fatal than a shot to the shoulder, but still.

So... we sat on the couch in the parlor. Sweeney had pushed his sleeve up all the way so Grandma could work on his arm (because he had defiantly objected to taking his shirt off), and his shirt collar was tugged down to rap around his upper arm so I could dab at the still-pulsing wound of his.

Normally, had I not known someone that well, I would tell them to go help themselves - lick their own wounds. And sure, I suppose I had come to care for Mr. Todd's well-being... a bit. It was easy to consider him one of us. He didn't share the family name, and he hardly ever spoke to us unless we spoke to him first, but nonetheless, he could easily be a member of our family. I'm pretty sure Grandma had accepted him in long ago anyway.

Though I think he'd be getting help from us, in this case, whether he liked it or not. Grandma had confirmed that.

While we were doing this, Seville was currently sitting by the window, trying to find something temporary to block it with for the night. Mum was lighting the fireplace.

"Well, I don't know what to tell yeh, Mr. T," Grandma ran her fingers down his arm, looking for any more stuck out pieces. "_Besides_, perhaps, that you wash it before it gets infected. I trust you won't need my 'elp with that, eh?"

Sweeney pulled his arm away from her a bit more gently now and rested it across his lap, a faintly amused glint in his eyes. "I promise you, I won't."

Still meaning to keep my eyes pinned on his shoulder, I couldn't help but take a small glance down at his battered arm. I won't hold back in saying that it definitely looked as though it had went through some tough hardships in its life of... being an arm.

I was preparing to ask where exactly the scars were from, noting the older-looking lines that weaved all around the newly formed cuts. His hand looked pretty bad too, actually.

But then I considered that perhaps it was from, as I said before, hardships. Hardships mainly being prison. In his life, anyway.

I didn't want anything about his story brought up when Mum was in the room. If she found out about the not-so-content story of Sweeney Todd, she'd leave this shop and never come back. On top of that, she'd drag us with her.

And I wasn't quite ready to leave yet.

* * *

><p>It was early in the morning when me and Sev were up the next day, pondering at the booth. The sun had just come up to a full. We were surprised Grandma wasn't up yet, actually. But we supposed last night must've tired her out.<p>

It was her who helped Mr. Todd back upstairs so she could talk to him about something for another hour afterwards. Something that my brother and I couldn't hear about, apparently.

"So..." My voice broke through the silence of the shop. "Geoffrey knows where we live now..."

"Yep." Seville agreed. He had a blank expression on his face as he shook his head, his eyes lingering on the table's surface.

"I... I was thinking," I faltered, letting visible worry travel across my face. "D'you think Mum will take us back home? I mean..." I paused to steal a glance at the threshold into the parlor, then went on. "... I figured if she found out about Sweeney, she'd want to leave anyway. But now, we have a real reason."

"Sweeney Todd upstairs isn't a real reason?" Seville raised a brow.

"Of course he isn't," I snapped. "Especially not now. He has a friggin' _bullet_ lodged in his _shoulder_, Sev. I'm just glad it wasn't his razor arm."

"Why?" Seville looked away from me, refusing to meet my eyes. "Maybe a little vulnerability will be good for him... for a while."

I partially agreed; Sweeney was a difficult person to faze, and he knew this. He hardly ever spoke of it, but he was pretty self-assured when he needed to be.

No fear.

It was almost admirable, really.

But admiring how tough he was was nothing compared to hating his arrogant side.

Somehow, he was able to make others feel incompetent and small without even having to move a muscle, or speak for that matter.

Puh. I wish I could do that. Maybe teach Dakota a lesson or two.

On the other hand though... Sweeney was the closest we'd come to protection around here...

"Like I said," I lifted my chin a little. "At least it wasn't his razor arm."

"Whatever, Val," Seville had a faint glare present on his face. "I just think that he needs to learn to live like someone who actually _has _a breaking point. No one's invincible." As he said this, he motioned with his head to the ceiling.

As if on cue, the pacing, creaking noise had begun.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "A bloody shoulder full of lead, and he's still on his feet. Can you believe him?"

The words flew out of my mouth so fast, I didn't even realize I added on another "bloody" to my sentence.

I didn't pay Seville or his weird stare any mind as I pushed up from the table to stomp for the side door.

* * *

><p>"Are you crazy?"<p>

Those were the first words out of my mouth the moment I walked through the door. Sweeney turned his head to stare at me, his expression seeming to ask me as to whether or not that was a trick question.

"Define 'crazy', lass." His voice was deadly serious, but I could easily see him fighting back a smirk.

"Crazy: As in, like, acting completely stupid." This response made him frown.

Ugh. I think I pissed him off.

Who's the stupid one here?

I softened my tone a little as I went on; He had no reply to that. "You're injured. You should sit down."

He snorted and turned his head away from me as he continued to pace. "Nonsense. It's my arm and shoulder - my legs aren't broken."

"Well," I crossed my arms. "my Grandma will have the right mind to come up here and break your legs herself if it meant you'd just sit down." I pressed my upper back against the wall and slid down to sit beside the chest, staring up at Mr. Todd intently. "She cares about you a lot, y'know?"

"Yes," He sighed, finally settling for stopping by the window's side and lifting his arm to rest his hand against the pane. "Too much."

"Don't say that," My eyes widened. "She knows as well as anyone what you've been through."

"_No one_ of this time knows what I've been through," He hissed, startling me. "No one knows the multitude of undying _agony _that I was put through. I wouldn't say otherwise if I were you." He took a few steps across the room at me, his hand reaching for the razor that rested against his hip.

I immediately got back up to my feet just in case he intended on doing any harm. "Well, _I _know then."

"Heh," He let out a harsh, sharp exhale that I guessed could only have been a rough attempt at laughter. He allowed that crooked smirk to play across his lips when he spoke. "You know nothing, girl. And if you did, you wouldn't last with the knowledge much longer." His shoulders untensed, and he flipped around on his heel to continue peering outside, obviously dismissing the argument.

I felt my brows furrowing together, anger welling in my chest. _I _wasn't finished. "You were bleeding over your wife." I threw the words out there in a careless manner.

This made him freeze, but he remained with his back to me. He didn't speak.

"There was a draft near the floor. You were trembling from blood loss. Lucy's face was covered in your blood."

Sweeney glared over his shoulder at me. The rise and fall of his chest was increasing in speed. This was definitely a new borderline, and it was awaiting my crossing.

"You killed her yourself, obviously," I pressed on anyway. "Or else you wouldn't have had such a guilty look on your face."

"You aren't proving anything," Sweeney growled, his voice shaking. "Stop it."

He sounded angry... but also a tad bit desperate. He really wasn't comfortable with where I was choosing to strike him.

I sighed, sympathy kicking the previous irritation out of me. I strolled over to stand beside him, my hands on my hips as I rested my eyes upon the wooden floor. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me."

"How do you know these details as clearly as I do, Valerie?" He murmured, his voice meek. He seemed to have forgotten about his rage as well.

I shrugged, keeping his gradually turning head in the corners of my eyes.

I hadn't meant to mention these odd dreams I had been having so soon. Especially not to the Demon Barber himself. But I supposed then and there was as good of a time as any.

"I've been having weird dreams about it," I admitted. "And they're... they're very clear. I remember exactly how everything looked - how I felt."

Sweeney was silent for a moment. When he spoke, he sounded perplexed. "You've never been... down there. How could you have dreamed so vividly of it?"

I merely shook my head. This was all so messed up and strange. Why I ever let myself get subjected to this sort of confusion was beyond me.

"When I find out, you'll be the first person I tell. I promise." I got down on the floor again, my back against the wall just below the window. There, I looked up at him with a sheepish smile.

Sweeney glanced down at me in turn, lightly shaking his head in a "I can't believe I'm actually tolerating you" sort of manner. Then he turned away from the window to sit down in his chair, huffing heavily the moment his upper back hit the leather.

He was tired.

I could tell.

"You're aloud to sleep, y'know. I won't draw on you... that's another promise." A small laugh escaped me.

Gosh. I was funny today.

Sweeney obviously didn't think so, though. "I take it you'd rather be drawn on as an oppose to getting a nine inch dagger dragged down your back, eh?"

"What?" The smile I wore didn't stay for long.

Hurt flashed across the barber's eyes so quickly, I had momentarily questioned as to whether or not I saw it.

But it was there.

"Are you okay?" I stared at him, but he was merely looking straight ahead now.

Hey - no fret. I think I knew the answer anyway: No.

The answer was always no.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Eh.. not a very uplifting ending to this chapter.<strong>_

_**BUT... stay tuned for an excessively uplifting author's note. c:**_

_**Christmas was great! It went way better than Halloween. :D And as much as I'd rather go on about the family instead of the presents... I simply cannot hold it in.**_

_**I got a Sweeney Todd replica straight razor. 8D *spazzes* **_

_**It's so life-like and heavy, and the markings on the handle look exactly like they do in the movie! And (and this is what really made me happy), I actually managed to cut myself with it. XD Like, the moment I opened it up, I brushed the sharp edge of the blade against my finger on accident, and it... it hurt. O.o Then it wouldn't stop bleeding for the longest time, as small as the cut was (I don't think I've ever been so happy to bleed before. I was staring at the blood and smiling like an idiot. XD).**_

_**Along with the razor, I also got the "Penny Dreadful's Sweeney Todd" video game. Puzzle-solving and such. :P And it came straight from England, so... *interested***_

_**And I also got partially see-through fingerless gloves that go all the way up to your elbows... sorta similar to Mrs. Lovett's. If I hadn't mentioned it before, I'll mention it now: I'm happy.**_

_**I'm also hopefully going to be getting the Sweeney Todd locket and messenger bag (you should look up a picture of the bag. it's cool), because it didn't come in time for Christmas, according to my Mom (it was all a big mess. too much of a mess in shipping for me to explain).**_

_**But yes... the other stuff that I got - clothes, mostly - have nothing to do with Sweeney Todd, so... you probably wouldn't be interested. Unless, of course, you asked me to go on in my next author's note. But you probably won't. Lol.**_

_**Review, if you will. I left a nasty cliff-hanger last time, and - most likely - the only reason why you read through this chapter was because, somewhere to the side of your brains, you considered the possibility that Sweeney might've been a goner. But he's not, so... yay. **_


	26. Past Midnight

_**Chapter 26**_

It started as a gentle heat.

Everything was fine. Absolutely fine.

Then it grew sharper, and it felt as though the very tips of flames were licking at my skin. But by the time I got around to contemplating this, it wasn't just the tips anymore. It was gradually growing stronger - more fierce. My arm was getting _seared off_.

I screamed, but I could barely hear myself over the crackling of fire.

By the time my shriek ended, my whole body was engulfed. I tried to kick around, perhaps jerk away from it. But, as useless as my screaming, I couldn't move either. I felt as though I were stuck to the spot.

My vision was black; I was afraid that if I opened my eyes, they'd burn right out of the sockets.

My clothes _must _have gotten seared off by now. The fire was white hot - it was torturous. I already got the sensation of melting.

Beads of sweat were trailing down my face, and had my eyes not been closed, they would've definitely blurred my vision. And if not the sweat, the tears that were beginning to escape my eyes would've done the trick already.

I wasn't breathing. That seemed like a last priority to me. It simply was not important in the least.

I tried screaming again, but it died down early. My voice was far too hoarse now. It was no use.

No use.

No use at all.

Just as I was in the process of succumbing to this horrific pain, I heard the faint sound of a voice. It was seemingly several miles away.

"Help me!" I couldn't get the words out much louder than that. It felt like I was screaming, but it was really nothing short of a whisper.

I didn't care who it was. I just wanted to get out of here.

The voice got ever closer.

Did it hear me? I sure hoped so.

After a few seconds, I could've sworn I was beginning to make out words in the voice. It was definitely speaking to me.

"Valerie!"

"W-what?" I croaked, feebly attempting to move around again.

Could it get to me fast enough? I could hardly believe I was still capable of thought.

Then, out of nowhere, two hands reached out and grabbed both my shoulders, shaking me violently. I gasped out every time my back made slamming contact with the hot, steel-like bars that were propped behind me.

Ugh! Was this person trying to help me, or kill me?

I gritted my teeth and pushed back, trying to keep them from doing any more of this. It hurt way too much.

The only upside to this action was that they had managed to pry me away from the surface I was previously stuck to.

They still didn't let up.

After a few seconds more, the heat vanished from around my body way quicker than it came. I thrashed around a final few times... and noticed the wooden floor.

The moment I flashed open my eyes to view the dark barbershop around me - as well as the empty chair directly in front of my splayed out legs - another stinging, burning sensation overtook my left arm. I hissed and hurriedly shook it, hoping the pain would go away. Instead, my elbow collided with something surprisingly soft. To follow this, I heard a pained grunt to my left.

I snapped my head in this person's direction and nearly jumped when my eyes fell upon Mr. Todd's dark orbs. He was sitting right beside me on the floor, and judging by the look on his face, he was concerned.

Realizing my elbow had flown right into his stomach, I took my arm away and tilted my head forward apologetically, my eyes still round with shock.

He was only able to hold a glare for a few moments. Then his expression softened slightly.

Without speaking a single word, he slid an arm over my shoulders and under my right arm to lift me up from the floor, letting me lean on his side. He guided me over to his chair and sat me down.

I was silent. He was too.

I still felt as though I had just been burnt severely though. It couldn't have been a dream. It... couldn't have.

Slowly, I tilted my head down a tad to steal a glance at my arms.

My heart missed a beat, and I managed a gasp. I honestly would've screamed if only my vocal cords were serving me properly.

"What?" Sweeney demanded.

"C-can... can you... see it?" I whispered, my voice still creaky from screaming so much.

"See what, lass?" He knelt down in front of the chair to look at my face.

I lifted my head to meet his eyes, bewildered.

How in the _hell _could he not see it?

My arms were singed. It was a mixture of being beat red, missing patches of skin here and there, and having splotches of ash in random places.

"What is it?" He reached out to grab my wrist, but I yanked my arm back immediately.

"Don't touch it."

Sweeney rose an eyebrow inquiringly. "You're being silly, Valerie. There's nothing wrong with your arms."

"Yes there is!" I snapped. "Can't you see?"

"I can see you're dripping with sweat and... tears," He frowned as he said this, resting a finger under my chin to lift my head up again. "But nothing else. You're fine."

I struggled to get control of my breathing - slow it down. I lowered my head again to gaze down at my lap, my eyes brimming up with more tears.

What was wrong with me?

It's not a good feeling when you feel like shit and you can't figure out why. Especially when your arms feel as though they're about to burn off.

Obviously already getting the picture that it was something he couldn't understand, Sweeney sighed and straightened from leaning over the chair. "Do you need anything?"

"A gallon of ice cold water to spill over my arms and face. Yeah." I looked up at him, wearing a dead serious expression.

"Your grandmother should inspect this." He stated quietly, reaching out once more to offer me a hand.

"Why?" Despite my objection, I took his hand without hesitance this time, and pulled myself up from the chair. My legs were a little wobbly at first, but they regained complete control fast. "If you can't see the burns, why should she be an exception?"

Sweeney never did give me a straight-out answer. He just bent down a slight to wipe away the remaining tears that hung on my face, then placed a hand on my upper back to push me towards the door. His movements were firm, and almost demanding. Yet he had a fairily gentle air about him.

If he ever wanted to kill me, he certainly would've done it already.

I'm pretty sure, anyway.

* * *

><p>We headed down the stairs, both of us grunting every now and again; I just found it funny that, most recently, we tended to injure ourselves around the same time. But then again... was my injury even real? I held fast to the fact that it was definitely there. But... if Sweeney couldn't see it, then... then what did that mean?<p>

It was darker out now. I figured it was around the evening. Grandma would've been up by then, and most likely preparing to come up and get me to come downstairs for dinner if I hadn't come down myself.

We entered in through the side door.

Grandma was behind the counter, and as I predicted, making dinner. Mum was sitting on a stool just beside the counter. They were talking.

"Hello, ladies." Sweeney greeted coolly, making both turn their heads in surprise.

"Mr. T?" Grandma pulled away from the slices of French bread she was sprinkling garlic on. "'Ow yeh feelin', dear?"

Sweeney flinched slightly at the mere question. Evidently, he was still in a great deal of pain. "I'm very well, Elle... considering the worst is my default, of course."

All I had to do was look up at him to notice both his hands were resting on either side of my shoulders (that must've been why Mum looked so tense).

Huh; An odd gesture for him.

"Well, _my _worst certainly isn't my default," I lightly shook away from Sweeney to walk across the room and prop my elbows up on the counter beside Mum, shaking my head gloomily. "That's why I'm worried."

"What're yeh talkin' about, love?" Grandma leaned down ever so slightly, frowning at me. Her anger for me was apparently discarded.

"Oh, don't tell me you can't see it either." I looked at her straight in the eyes.

"See what, Valerie?" Mum murmured, a natural look of worry spreading across her face. Her green eyes were flicking back and forth between me and Mr. Todd, as if she were afraid he'd attack me from behind.

Sweeney did no such thing though. He just gave a rueful shake of his head and stalked past us to sit at the edge of the booth (most expected to continue sulking).

"Can you not see the burns on my arms?" Yeah. I just decided to just take a direct approach at the conversation.

"Burns... on your...?" Mum looked dreadfully confused the moment the words spilled from my mouth.

"Mr. Todd?" Grandma peered over my shoulder at Sweeney, probably hoping he could shed a little light on the situation.

But Sweeney's irritable glare returned all too quickly - the opposite of what any of us wanted. "I thought we agreed _you _would be the miracle worker, Elle. It was a promise you broke long before the one about keeping children out of my shop."

Grandma narrowed her eyes threateningly at him and his snippy attitude. "I r'member, _love_. Long 'fore the time Benny wasn't _dead_, no less!"

"What?" I gaped at her, preparing to question her, but Sweeney cut in again.

"Long _before_ Benny wasn't dead? Don't you mean long before he was even _alive?"_

Grandma was doing nothing short of fuming now. "By the way: It ain't _your_ shop, deary. S'_mine_, an' it was built after this one. 'Ow dare yeh-"

"Guys!" I exclaimed, shoving myself in Grandma's way so she wasn't looking straight at Mr. Todd anymore. "Grandma," I blinked once, softening my features as I gazed into her eyes once again. "What do you _mean_ Dad is dead? I thought you were the only one who was stubborn enough to refuse giving up hope. It... helped us."

From behind me, Sweeney bolted upright and lowered his hackles immediately. This seemed to have just occurred to him as well.

"Well... er..." Grandma and Mum exchanged a glance.

"What's happened?" Sweeney rose from his seat in a jerky motion, pacing over to shove himself beside me. I could tell he was fighting to keep his voice as fierce as it usually was; Either that wound on his shoulder was acting up again, or he was actually caring.

Meh. I'd believe the first one, well... first.

"The police found your father's body." Mum explained delicately, her eyes suddenly having a grief-stricken look about them.

"His body?" I repeated slowly. "What about... _him?"  
><em>

Grandma inhaled lightly, her eyes tearing up a little. "'Is... 'is body was all they found, love."

My mouth was still hung open, but I couldn't think straight to close it.

That was it.

The fact that Dad was most likely dead had been knawing at the back of my head for days, but... Grandma's doubt almost reassured me enough as to the point where it seemed untrue.

Now there were no excuses.

"Valerie," Mum placed a shaky hand upon my shoulder. "You know that if we ever went out to go look for your father, it could've just as well been one of us dead."

I shrugged away from her, scowling. "Do you even _care_ about Dad?" The tears were starting up again. "Like - at all?"

"I do," She murmured, her voice firm despite the altogether low volume of it. "You know I do, Valerie. But he would've wanted me to keep you and Seville safe."

"Seville," I looked up, my eyes wide. "Does Seville know?"

"Seville knows, Val," Grandma replied lowly. "An' 'e's no 'appier than you are right now."

"What about you?" I gazed at her. "Are you alright?"

"As far as mournin' goes, dear," Grandma slowly nodded, her voice numbed and not nearly as open as it usually was. "m'just fine."

I finally closed my mouth, crossing my arms and briefly forgetting about the pain. The four of us stood there in complete silence, our heads dipped.

It was a break from words that I daresay we needed.

Sweeney backed away from the counter and left my side to turn his back on us and glare out the window, and Mum placed a reassuringly steady hand on my shoulder.

She smiled somberly as she fought back tears. "Let's go see Seville, hm?"

I nodded, letting strands of curly red hair fall in front of my eyes. I didn't move a muscle to brush it away this time as Mum and I left to head into the parlor.

Seville was sitting on the sofa when we walked in. He didn't look particulary sad. Just distant.

He sort of reminded me of Sweeney, actually.

"Hey, Sev," Mum sat down beside him, and I took a seat right next to her. "How are you feeling?"

Seville lowered his head and flicked his hazel eyes in our direction, but he didn't speak. He didn't need to.

Mum sighed and leaned in to hug him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, dearest. There's nothing we could've done."

The burning animosity that stung my innards and set my chest heaving was the only thing that made me hesitant to lean on Mum, but I eventually did. I let another tear fall as I set my eyes upon the crackling fireplace in front of us, thinking angrily of Geoffrey and his smug face.

This meant _war_. That fact was as clear as day itself.

* * *

><p>We sat there on the sofa for a long while - it had to have been hours - until I realized that Mum and Seville had dozed off. I carefully slid out from under Mum's arm, careful not to wake her, and perched at the edge of the cushion to lift my arms up and stretch. As I did this, I observed the window. The window that Seville had put strong sheets of plastic over to cover the hole in the glass. It must have been past midnight by now.<p>

So when I heard a rough cough from inside the shop, I got up off the couch and walked down the hall, kicking off my shoes (that I had completely forgotten I was still wearing up until then) on my way out of the room. As I walked, I examined my arms again: Small patches of ash were still stained into my skin, but other than that, no one besides me would think anything of it.

Weird.

When I entered, Sweeney and Grandma were sitting at the booth. Sweeney, of course, saw me first. But considering he was facing the doorway, it must not have been that hard for him.

He didn't say anything to me. He just stared blankly.

"Wha' 'tis it you're lookin' at?" Grandma's faintly slurred voice startled me. She sounded as though she had been drinking a bit.

All I needed to see was a glass bottle of gin sitting atop the table to confirm my thoughts.

When she turned to face me, she flashed a tired smile. "Well, I'll be. Look who's come to join our lil' carousal, Mr. T."

He just grunted as he turned his attention back at the shot glass he was holding, staring in at the clear, swirling liquid with a - on the contrary - cold sober look carved into his ivory face.

I managed a small smile as I walked over. Grandma scooted in to give me space to sit. "You guys are the only two people I know who'd ever let me attend a _carousal_ at the age of twelve."

"Well, did yeh expect your mother to let yeh?" Grandma rose an eyebrow.

Sweeney looked up abruptly, narrowing his eyes. "Elle, I don't think Valerie meant-"

"Righ', well... would yeh like a drink, love?" Grandma asked, smirking as she cut the barber off.

"_Water_." I pressed emphasis on the word, making sure she understood that I wanted nothing to do with alcohol at the moment.

My mouth and throat needed a pure refreshment. Crying for an hour takes more from you than thought previously.

"Mm," Grandma's face changed a little, and her smile dimished considerably. "...If yeh say so, deary."

I got up once again to let her get out of the booth, then slid back in to sit closer to Sweeney.

He didn't even spare me a glance. So when he spoke, I couldn't tell whether his words were directed at me, or at Grandma. "If you're not well, don't act like you are."

"If anyone's taught us that, you have," I told him. "And we're not well. Not one bit."

"Then it seems as though two people in this room have sense," Sweeney rotated a firm glare on Grandma, who currently had her back turned to us. "The other... I'm not as sure about."

"Not to worry, Sweeney. You'll fit in one day, I promise," Grandma reassured him without even turning around. "S'not like you 'ave little time, after all."

Oh boy. She was using his first name now. She _was _really out of it.

This didn't seem to be what was angering Sweeney about her words though. His glare darkened, and he was unsuccessfully digging his nails into the table's suface as if struggling to keep from getting up and throttling her.

Grandma finally turned around with a glass of water. She handed it to me, and I got up in return to let her get back in. When we were all settled, we were deadly silent, apart from the sounds of gentle breathing, sipping and swallowing, and the clearing of throats.

Not very lively or carousal-like in the least... not that I fully expected it to be, nor wanted it to be.

And by the minute, the silence seemed to sober Grandma up a bit.

That was good. I'd say it was high time we started discussing important matters.

"What are we going to do about Geoffrey?" I asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Well," Grandma replied faster than I expected her to. "we simply can't do just anything, now can we?" She shook her head, her voice bitter. "No. The bugger knows Mr. Todd a touch too well."

Sweeney's dark eyes flashed dangerously, but he didn't say anything.

"How?" I wondered aloud.

Grandma sighed. "It goes back years, love," Her face expressed nothing but seriousness when she looked at me. "I'll tell yeh right 'ere an' now that not everyone would be on our side of the fight."

"What do you mean?" I tilted my head.

Grandma swallowed before going on. "We're not total protagonists ourselves, Val. We're not bad. We're not all that good, either."

I looked down at the table's suface yet again, frowning.

"_But_," Grandma seethed. "When it comes down to family, we'll jus' 'ave to rough things up a bit. Geoffrey..." She closed her eyes tightly, most likely striving to hide the hurt that shone in them. "...Geoffrey killed _my_ son, an' _your _father. 'E severely wounded Mr. Todd by tryin' to get to us, an'-"

"Don't be ridiculous," Sweeney snorted, interrupting her. "I _can_ hold my own in a fight."

"An' yeh just didn't this time 'round?" She rose a brow.

"I - _why_ do you care?" Sweeney stuttered, struggling to keep a firm tone.

"Just face it, Mr. Todd!" Grandma hissed. "The sodden bastard can read yeh like a book!"

"But _how?" _I demanded. "Surely I'm missing something here."

"Valerie," Grandma pinched the bridge of her nose. "People 'round 'ere know Mr. Todd's story better than any others in the world. Many are historians of a sort. The story of the Demon Barber of Fleet Street is like a common ghost story... just... more real than some know."

"Haven't others spoken to him before? I mean... it's not like we're the only ones who can see him." I heavily resisted the urge to poke Sweeney as I said this; Now would, in all honesty, not be a good time to get him agitated.

Grandma would probably find it funny though.

"Others can see 'im just as well as you an' I can," She explained patiently. "But that's not always too good for publicity. There's a chance 'e could get... a-arrested, or mobbed."

"Main point being: There's no way I can get to Geoffrey without him knowing what I plan to do... unless I catch him off guard." Sweeney seemed to be wanting to edge away from what Grandma was saying.

I didn't blame him; He had his defense techiniques, but that couldn't shield things from becoming awkward for him. That must've been why I felt a little guilty for talking about this right in front of him just moments after he spoke.

"We'll just _have _to catch him off guard, then," I stated, after offering Mr. Todd a sympathetic smile from across the table. "How else are we supposed to kill him?"

Both Sweeney and Grandma fell silent, and I pressed myself against the wooden booth, nervous as to whether or not I said something wrong.

But Grandma placed a gentle hand upon my upper back, sighing gently. Sweeney heaved a sigh himself, and his glare vanished. These movements and statements appeared to be relaxing him.

Grandma seemed a little taken aback herself as she patted me. "That's our girl."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Silly Grandma Lovett; You <strong>_**are _the protagonists. Why else would I be writing about you guys?_**

_**Oh yeah. I like the ending. XD Stakes are starting to get raised, as are hackles (I love that word c:).**_

_**If you see any mistakes, I'll probably go to fix them later. I'm gonna go play my Sweeney Todd game now. :)**_

_***makes for an exit***_


	27. Weary of Sorrow

_**Chapter 27**_

"Well, I'd say it's time yeh 'it the 'ay, Val." Grandma ushered me out of the booth and then got out herself, taking the empty shot glasses along with her to place them on the counter. "Your mother'd rage at yeh for bein' up this late."

"Oh..." I tilted my head in the direction of the parlor, frowning. "I... don't think Mum will be up for a while. Her and Sev passed out a while ago."

Grandma turned around to approach me, her eyes shone with sadness. She grabbed my shoulders in another gentle grip to look me straight in the eyes. "Things'll get better, love. They will, 'cause they always do."

I sighed and broke eye contact with her, staring at the marble floor. Grandma pulled me into a hug, and I slowly found myself hugging back. "I love yeh, dear. Y'know that, right?"

Only when I eventually pulled away did I reply. "I love you too."

Grandma smiled lightly and reached out to touch my arm a final time. "G'night, deary."

"Goodnight." I smiled back, this one a little more genuine than my latest ones. Then I turned on my heel to face Sweeney, who still looked as conflicted as ever.

He didn't have a shot glass to glare at anymore, so he settled for glaring at the table top instead.

With caution, I approached him, walking right up to where he still sat. "Um..."

He actually looked up at me this time. Though his expression was flat and unimpressed, as though he were expecting me to say something stupid.

"I never thanked you for taking the bullet for me and my family," I stated, one hand resting atop the table. "And... I didn't think Seville or my Mum would, so... thanks." I hesitated at first, but in the end, I leaned down to sling my arms over his shoulders, hugging him too.

I could feel him freeze from underneath me, and he put absolutely no effort forth whatsoever to at least rap one arm around me.

Yeah... he never did strike me as a hugger. I wasn't really either, unless it was someone I knew well enough. And as little as I knew about him, it only felt right.

"I know," I pulled away from him, smirking slightly. "the best way to thank you is by leaving you alone, so I will," I pushed away from the table. "But, y'know, thanks." I nodded to him, smiling still.

Sweeney's arms dropped to his sides. His expression remained as stoic as could be, as though his arrogant side was actually failing to take all the credit for once. "You're welcome." He simply nodded at me in turn as he propped his elbows up on the table, his hands immediately finding one another and folding together in a business-like manner.

I turned my back on him, grinning despite myself. I swear: the day Mr. Sweeney Todd smiles, laughs, and hugs me back is the same day that Hell's temperature drops well below zero.

That's the Demon Barber for you. He can be - and usually is - as cold as Hell will never be.

It may have sounded absurd, but that fact alone made me all the more fond of him.

Don't ask me why. I beg of you.

But as convinced as I was that his dire case of misanthropy was really just a mere hard exterior - far stronger than an outer shell; more like gleaming, silvery, full body armor covered in blood splatters - it had always been his attitude that had got him by. If he'd've gone back to living Benjamin Barker's life, he would never have been able to kill all those people. That was a soild fact.

But him killing innocent people wasn't important. I wasn't alive at the time, but I know for a fact that Sweeney Todd's killing spree should never have happened. Judge Turpin's death was the only death necessary.

If Sweeney really did have the good interior that I knew resided deep down within him, he regretted killing all those innocent men.

He wasn't as cruel as he'd purposely lead someone on to believe. I knew he wasn't.

Some people just aren't persistent enough to know that troubled beings like Sweeney Todd need a little working at. But these said beings almost always come around, no matter how stubborn. No one can hold out forever.

Me? _I_ was certainly persistent enough. In fact... I was cut out just right for the job.

* * *

><p>Dad's funeral.<p>

Mum and Grandma were out at the nearest funeral home, making plans for his wake.

My mind was spinning in all my grief. I can't deny it.

I was sitting at the base of the stairs that led up to Sweeney's shop, my elbows on my knees and my chin resting in the palm of my right hand. I was gazing down at the damp, cobblestone ground with a blank expression on my face.

Seville and I were left to guard the palace, obviously. And Sweeney was left to 'babysit' us.

If he called babysitting lounging in his chair and telling us to go outside and find something to amuse ourselves accurate enough to the art of keeping children safe, then fine. It wasn't like we cared.

I was kinda bored though.

I switched position and ended up sprawling across the last step, ignoring the fact that it was probably very dirty... and my hair was still fairily clean.

While I was grumbling to myself about this, I hardly heard the sound of footsteps across the way until they got close enough to reach my ears to a full.

I looked up in alarm, and my eyes caught on Derek's brown hair immediately.

But this time, he wasn't alone.

From behind him, his younger brother and sister Tobit and Lucy appeared. They seemed far more shy than last time - not as suspicious.

I quickly sat upright, shaking out my hair and trying to hide my embarrassment in being caught sight of in such a thoughtless and rather stupid-looking pose.

But Derek didn't exactly look as smug as usual. Not even as humored as he would normally look for even causing the slightest blush to rise up my cheeks.

"Hey, uh, Valerie..." His voice faltered the moment they came from his mouth.

I frowned; He usually wasn't this awkward. Not this much, anyway. "What's the matter?" I asked, briefly looking down at both his younger siblings again before lifting my eyes back up to view his face.

"We just came by to, say... offer our condolences, I mean," Derek stated brokenly. "Our parents would've come, but they had stuff to do today. They might come by soon to say so, but for now they just sent us to-"

"How did you know about my father?" I demanded bluntly, placing my hands on my hips.

"Our parents caught your Mum and Grandma riding a taxi down the street and asked them where you guys were. They said that you were here, but... they also explained where they were going." Derek explained this slowly, as if he were talking to his little sister.

I sniffed, trying to hide my annoyance in the presence of his little siblings. "Did they now?"

"Our grandpa died a few years back," Derek went on. "It was painful. We can't imagine what it must be like to lose one of your parents. It must be like... millions more tons of pain. I mean... it really must suck."

"It _does_," I was inches away from snapping at him, but I retained my composure enough to rise from where I sat and rap an arm over his shoulders, my voice strained. "_But_... I'd rather not think about it."

"What do you want to do, then?" Tobit's tiny voice broke into our exchange, and I glanced down at him in surprise.

After a momentary silence, I smiled. "What do _you _do to relieve stress, squirt?"

"Hide n' Seek is the game he likes," Lucy spoke up, crossing her arms disinterestedly. Her two brothers speaking seemed to give her the confidence to join the conversation.

"Well, how about we play that then?" I took my hand away from Derek to smile down at the two younger kids.

"W-what?" Derek blinked, shocked at my mood swing. He placed a hand on my shoulder to stare at me for a moment, confused. "Val...erie," He nearly screwed up, but corrected himself at my glare. "What are you doing? Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm feeling great," I gave a single nod. "But the big lug upstairs isn't giving me many options when it comes to amusement, and I feel like having some fun."

"The big..." Derek's words trailed off as his eyes followed mine up the stairs to the barbershop door. His voice hushed down, nearing inaudibility. "You mean... Sweeney Todd?"

Unfortunately for him, Tobit and Lucy overheard his words.

"Sweeney Todd?" Tobit echoed.

"That's his name," I stated, fighting the urge to roll my eyes as I added in a quieter tone, "Don't you dare wear it out..."

"W-well... what about him?" Lucy demanded, struggling to keep a bold tone of voice; she and Derek were the two oldest kids in their house, and they were obviously told more about the Demon Barber than little Tobit was.

Aging certainly came with more extended knowledge.

"Nothing," I briskly shook my head, then forced another smile. "Anyway... are we playing, or not?"

Derek stared at me. A nod from him approved a moment later.

"Not it!" I blurted, puffing out my chest.

"Not it!" Lucy followed suit.

"Not it!" Tobit grinned up at Derek.

"Too slow, Barker Boy," I patted Derek on the shoulder as I passed, stifling a giggle at his shocked face.

"Alright, wait a second," He caught me by the wrist, pulling me back towards him. "I'm laying down a rule first, Lovett."

"Okay," I crossed my arms, ignoring the fact that I'd usually get really pissed off at him for putting his hands on me. "Go ahead, kid."

The muscles in his face twitched into a little glare as he began, toning his voice down considerably for only me to hear. "Not for my sake, but for the sake of Tobit and Lucy - Tobit especially - _no _using the barbershop upstairs as a hiding place. Not at all. It's _off limits._ Okay?"

Ugh. That was gonna be my first pick.

"Fine," I dipped my head. "But, y'know... if I was so sure Mr. Todd was going to kill me, I would've left by now."

Derek merely shook his head, then turned back to his little siblings. "Okay, _runts_, get moving."

Tobit perked up and ran into the pie shop the moment Derek pushed his face into the brick wall of the building and began counting. I turned around and didn't look back as I carried myself over the courtyard fence and rounded the very next building over, smirking; Derek said the only place off limits was the barbershop. He was lucky I was going easy on him.

I couldn't tell how high Derek counted up to, but his call of "Ready or not, here I come!" made me sure he was finished.

I crouched down behind the wall and hushed up, foolishly assuming immediately that Derek would find his little brother and sister before he found me.

I was unpleasantly surprised when, out of nowhere, he snaked around the corner about twelve minutes later with Tobit in tow behind him. He smirked as he grabbed me from behind (my back was turned, I swear!).

Being the natural lady at heart that I was, I screamed as I felt him do this... then started swinging.

"Whoa! Hey! Hey!" Derek detached his arms from around my waist to trip over his own feet in backing up, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. "Calm down!"

I advanced on him, but ended up stopping halfway when I noticed Tobit was with him. I shook my head, exhaling. "Don't do that."

"_Gosh_, Valerie. You never struck me as the type to scare so easily," Derek remarked. "It's like some kind of weird, innate thing you've got going, huh?"

I rolled my eyes, briefly forgetting the situation as I thought back to that one episode of _Family Guy _where Peter somehow got a horse leg in the place of his right leg and ended up kicking Brian when he approached him from behind ("What do I keep saying? Do _not _stand behind me, because I _will _get scared.").

I smirked lightly in amusement as I thought about it.

"C'mon, Lovett. I found you _and_ Tobit. Lucy's still hiding."

"Alright, fine." I tagged along behind him as he and Tobit started walking back towards the pie shop, balancing on the curb of the motionless street for no reason whatsoever.

"Did either of you see the direction in which she ran?" Derek asked importantly.

I was aware that the acknowledgement of his little sister getting hurt had already passed through his mind long before the game started, and most likely long before he left his house that morning.

"Some place she knew it'd be hard for you to find her," I supplied, crossing my arms over my chest and tapping my foot against the cobblestone. "She seems like a smart girl to me, Derek. Why would she make things easy for you?"

Derek didn't reply. He just climbed over the courtyard fence to head for the side door into the shop, only to be stopped by Tobit who firmly shook his head.

"What?"

"Lucy didn't go in there," Tobit replied shortly. "_I _went in there, but she didn't." He looked proud at the aspect, while Derek looked all the more frantic.

"Okay..." I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't panic. Follow _me _now." I took the lead, surprised when Derek didn't protest. Of course... he could've just been heading in that direction upon his own accord, and I just happened to be walking in front of him.

I led them around the building to the other side, where there was a very tight space in between the pie shop and the next building over. We looked through, because she would probably be able to squeeze in without much trouble. But alas, Lucy was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn," I stood there, looking on and gripping one hip with a hand. "She's better than I thought."

I know it might've seemed like we were hardly looking anywhere, but when you think about it, there weren't that many places where she could've gone. Not unless she ran all the way down the street and skidded around a corner... but I somehow got the feeling that Lucy would not do that; Her and Derek seemed practiced enough, and they struck me as the sort of kids who'd listen when their parents tell them not to stray too far.

"She might be behind the shop," I suggested. When Derek hesitated, I grabbed his wrist and pulled. "Let's _go_, Barker."

And so we climbed over the fence yet again and poked our heads over the other side, behind the building. I had never seen it before, actually. Only one window was seen, and in such a way that I did not understand, I knew it would look into Grandma's bedroom. I vaguely remembered being in her room before, when I was very young...

"Ugh," Derek pressed his head against the bricks, groaning. "She's not here either. What are we going to do, Valerie?"

Even Tobit was starting to look a little worried for his older sister.

I glanced from one to the other, my expression blank. Then I took my hands away from the fence and turned back around, walking until I reached the side door. "There's one place we haven't checked yet."

"The parlor?" Derek wondered, confused.

"No," I rolled my eyes heavenward. "The barbershop, and-" I broke off, faltering before I flashed a glare his way. "How the hell did you know we had a parlor?"

"Uh," Derek blinked. "Doesn't-um-y'know... _every _building around here have a parlor?"

"Nice save, you _creep_," I sneered this before placing my foot on the first step up to Mr. Todd's shop, but Derek stopped me.

"W-wait, were you serious?"

"'Course I was," I glanced back at him. "Why wouldn't I be? Maybe Mr. Todd knows where Lucy is."

"Yeah, and maybe he's already stuffing her body into an oven!" Derek yanked me back by the arm. "Don't go, Valerie."

"It's safe," I ripped my arm out of his grasp, scowling. "I _know _it is. I'd know if it wasn't."

"You know a lot of things," He seethed.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I bit back.

"Aha! So you don't know what _that _means then," Derek tapped his chin with a finger thoughtfully, but I merely turned my back on him yet again, dismissing the argument.

"I'm done, Barker. If you don't want to go upstairs, go inside the shop and ask my brother if he's seen Lucy. That'll give you something to do, won't it?" I was at the top of the stairs by the time I finished my sentence.

Derek was still glaring up at me, while Tobit stood behind him with a helpless expression on his face. "Fine!" He turned on his heel and pushed the side door open, muttering to himself angrily as he went.

Tobit followed, wearing a facial look that suggested he wanted to say something, but couldn't think of anything good.

I then faced the barbershop door and turned the knob, opening it up to find that Sweeney was, once again, not in plain sight. I looked around the room until I spotted him to my right. He was sipping from a cup of tea, having a strangely relaxed aura about him. But I knew he could see me in the corners of his eyes.

"Can I help you, Valerie?" He muttered, without turning. His voice was pure deadpan, but it certainly cut through the thick silence that hung over the room.

"Have you seen a little blonde girl anywhere around here? Did she come in? Y'know... did you kick her out, I mean?" I had a feeling that, if Lucy _did_ come in here, Sweeney would indeed kick her out.

As he said the night I met him, _"I no longer have patience for children."_

_Did _he have patience for children at one time then? That'd be obvious, considering he was once a much better man with a wife and infant daughter.

"I wouldn't know a girl of any sort," Sweeney stated, looking mightily annoyed at my intrusion. He finally looked over his mug at me, his piercing glare hitting me like a block of ice. "If you brought one in, I wouldn't know which of you to maim first."

That statement earned _him _a death glare from _me _this time around, even if I was increasingly taken aback by the ferocity in his voice. "And what's the cause of your agitation today, Mr. Todd?"

It may have seemed funny, but whenever he got on my nerves, I addressed him as Mr. Todd more often. I also addressed him by that name while in my dreams. But that was oddly enough not for him getting on my nerves... it was for something I had not yet understood.

"You _know_ the cause of my agitation," Sweeney grumbled. "And you constantly badgering me about it never helps," He waved me off. "Now off with you."

"You're kicking _me _out?" I doubled back against the door, stunned and confused.

"You sound surprised," He mused, glowering at me in displeasure.

I gaped at him for a moment longer, but he persistently took to glaring me out the door and on my way. I shot him a pissed look before parting outside, where I closed the door behind me and pressed my back against it, unable to comprehend just how flustered I was.

Sweeney had _never_ been so rude to me before on regular visiting terms, and this wasn't even that! Sure, there were days where he'd be particulary short with me, but that was just the way he was. And I had never angered him so much as to the point where he'd kick me out of the room.

Something else was up.

"Great," I muttered sarcastically, flipping around the baluster at the top of the stairs and stomping back down, shaking my head; Now I had to deal with helping Derek find his sister, _and _figure out what Sweeney's problem was.

Though it wasn't essential that I do either... you might've figured out by now that I was an awfully curious being.

Still am.

* * *

><p>"Uh-er... Valerie, I don't think this is really a good idea..."<p>

I pushed Derek down onto the sofa beside Seville and Tobit. Then I plopped down beside them, resting my head against the back of the couch.

"We can't just sit here," Derek insisted, attempting to get up again. I yanked him back down.

"People always come out of their hiding spots when the person who's looking for them is taking too long. Eventually, you get bored, hungry, tired... you're talking to a girl who's had years of experienced and hardcore Hide n' Seek games behind her," I lifted my chin as I said this, not even looking Seville's way when he and I exchanged a high five from over Derek's lap. "It's quite simple, really. And besides... I'm tired."

"Hm... tired from being lazy," Seville mused. "Yep, that's Valerie alright."

"Hey!" I took to punching him in the shoulder before I went on with my defense speech. "I was running about with Derek for quite a while."

"For about two minutes," Derek put forth with no humor in his voice.

"Alright," I lifted my arms up, shaking my head as I leaned back against the cushions. "Blame everything on me. Fine. It's not like I haven't already gotten yelled at once today."

Seville looked confused at first, but then a lightning quick glare was present. "Who yelled at you that wasn't me, Val?"

Derek had to cover his mouth with the back of his hand as he stifled a chuckle. I scowled.

"Mr. _Demon Barber_," I crossed my arms, settling my eyes upon Derek who immediately quieted at the name. "He comes off snapping at me when I go upstairs to ask him if he's seen Lucy. He accuses me of badgering him constantly about the stuff that agitates him most. Then he goes and _kicks me out _of the barbershop for no reason _at all._"

Seville sighed. "Val, what did I tell you about him?"

"I _remember _what you told me about him as clear as anything, Sev," I turned my head to stare at him firmly. "Later on, I'm going back up to ask him about it."

"Are. You. Insane?" Seville grabbed my arm in a tight grip, pulling me towards him.

I quickly pulled away, sneering. "_God_, I know you boys can't keep your hands off me, and I'm flattered. But this has got to stop!"

"I haven't grabbed you yet," Tobit gazed up at me with a naively innocent look, and I smiled sweetly down at him.

"And you should keep that cold shoulder with girls until you're twenty, boy."

"Okay, Valerie," Seville massaged his temple wearily. "You're being ridiculous."

Our endless, all-over-the-place banter went on for a while, nearly an hour, before Derek got too worried to speak anymore and dragged Tobit with him out the door. He wouldn't admit it, but I knew he liked that we had managed to distract him from thinking about Lucy for a while.

As Seville and I followed him outside, we saw that it was beginning to near dusk. The air was surprisingly humid, like a regular summer night should've felt. It felt very nice, but... where _was _Lucy?

Seville stayed in the threshold to the side door as I followed Derek to the fence.

"We'll keep an eye out," I promised, slowing to a halt and staring at him now with a new seriousness that I hadn't shown before. "But for now, go home and tell your parents."

"We will," Derek stated, casting a saddened look up above us, where the sky could be seen in slight purple behind the grayish clouds. "And not that I think you'd care less than some of my other friends would, I..."

His words trailed off, and his mouth was hung open with no words being produced. He was staring at something, wide-eyed, over my shoulder.

"Wh-what is it?" I flipped around, only to be met with a rageful but equally merry sight.

Lucy was trotting down the stairs from the barbershop, shooting daggers for eyes in Derek's direction. I soundlessly stepped out of the way to let her pass, watching as Derek stepped over the fence yet again to lean down and hug her tightly, as if this were some sort of dramatic reunion scene from a movie.

"_Oh_, save it, Derek!" Lucy shoved him away from her, scowling. "Do you realize how long I waited in that friggin' barbershop?"

I stiffened at her words, then let my eyes travel up the stairs to gawk at Sweeney's shop door, my eyes round.

"I... Valerie, I thought you said she wasn't up there." Derek sounded just as bewildered as I was.

"Mr. Todd _said _she wasn't," I explained, resisting the urge to scratch my head in all this perplexity.

A small smile pulled Lucy's lips up as she climbed over the fence backwards, careful not the let the skirt she wore get caught on it. "Did he, really?" Her words were smug, bordering on sly. Instead of explaining a thing, she turned her back on us and began walking down the street. "C'mon, Derek."

Derek looked at me, helplessly shrugged, and waved his goodbye to both me and Seville before taking Tobit's arm and dragging him along after him, following in Lucy's steps.

I turned around silently and strode right on back up to Seville, who was leaning against the side door frame with his arms crossed.

He had a thoughtful look on his face. "Well... _that _was interesting, wasn't it?"

I peered up the stairs, a smile grazing my lips. Without responding to my brother, I began heading up them, smirking all the while.

"Uh... Val?" Seville called up to me.

I looked over my shoulder, smiling still. "Don't worry, Sev. I'm pretty sure it's safe now."

Not waiting for his reply, I hurriedly rounded the same wooden baluster at the top and passed it up, quickly slipping into the barbershop. I didn't bother to muffle the sound of the bell at the top that rung out for anyone in the room to hear.

I _wanted_ Mr. Todd to hear.

Sweeney was now standing with his back to me, and I stood that safe few paces away from him with a knowing smile on my face and my hands on my hips.

He didn't have to turn around to know it was me. "Yes, Valerie?"

I just took slow steps toward him, making sure that each step made a creak in the floorboards.

Finally, he turned around to face me.

I banished my smile away for the first few seconds that his eyes were on me, but I still felt it twitching my mouth inevitably.

"What is it you want, lass?" He rose an eyebrow at my silence; I usually spoke by now.

I just gave up in holding back the smile now. It was pointless anyway.

"Oh... nothing," I stepped up to the window beside him, briefly weaving my arm through his and giving it an affectionate squeeze before letting go, smiling all the while and not even bothering to explain myself; I think he already knew.

When both my hands found support upon the window sill, I went on in a quiet - but nowhere near awkward - tone of voice. "You drove me out of the room to help Lucy hide. Didn't you?"

Another short string of silence followed the query. I peeked up to look at Sweeney's face and found that the corners of his mouth were twitching. He didn't give the smile a chance to take over, however. "She didn't give me much of a choice." A very thin coat of humor was spread over his voice, almost making it sound warmer.

That surprised me; I expected him to be stubborn. I didn't expect for him to find just as much humor in the situation as I did.

"She was in the chest, I take it?" I checked, peering over my shoulder to view the old, wooden contraption that I guessed to have been used many times for more than just storing items.

Just as I swiveled my head around to look outside once more, the barber nodded a yes, still merely keeping me in the corners of his eyes.

That's all he needed, I suppose. He didn't need eyes in the back of his head; His heightened senses took over that role. For most of the time, he was able to tell what exactly was behind him at all times, and as well judge whether or not it was good or bad. That was the only known perk for the number of traumatic experiences he was forced to swallow down in prison for fifteen years. It was disgusting, but it was true. And the more I thought about it - still think about it - it becomes increasingly apparent to me that the Demon Barber never received a metal.

Now what a load of crap _that _is!

I took the time to silently seeth to myself before shaking out of my thoughts. I once again peered up into Mr. Todd's face and smiled slightly. "You know that won't be the last time Lucy is here then, right?"

Sweeney visibly cringed at the notion. He finally turned his head to look down at me, sporting a dispassionate grimace. "I try not to think about it."

I grinned as he turned his back on the window. He sat down in his chair and leaned over the right armrest, staring at me intently when he spoke again. "As long as you don't bring her here, you're off the hook of any blame."

A fake simper reached my lips as I slid down the wall below the window to sit like many times before. "If I'm off the hook, and she comes on her own, who will you blame?"

"Nobody." Mr. Todd replied lightning quick.

Didn't see that coming.

I brought my knees up to my chest, but I didn't say anything. I certainly didn't need words to tell him something.

"I don't believe you," Sweeney muttered quietly.

"What do you mean?" I looked up, concerned.

"Your father just died," He murmured. "And you're acting like there's nothing wrong with the world."

"There's nothing wrong with the _world_," I countered. "But _we _have got a problem. Don't we?"

"We haven't got a problem," Mr. Todd growled, sharply flicking his eyes in the direction of the broken mirror across the room, scowling. "The world is choosing to step on us."

"You can't blame the world for every little problem we have. And though my father's death is nothing little, the world didn't do that either," My voice was firm, but I wasn't exactly angry. Either way, this needed to be said. "Geoffrey Turpin did it, Mr. Todd."

"This wasn't all my point," Sweeney lightly touched his forehead and closed his eyes briefly. "How can you retain such zeal when you've lost someone?"

"Well..." I frowned. "... you never really _can_ be the same way again. But if you don't stop thinking about it sooner or later, you'll think about it forever."

"Why lose sight of something so important?" Mr. Todd turned his head to a full to glare at me.

He actually looked... genuinely upset.

"Hey," I gazed up into his dark eyes, my voice growing soft and silky. "I said we'd be getting to Geoffrey, didn't I?" When he turned away from me yet again, I went on gently. "There's no reason to get frustrated."

He was silent.

I let out a muted sigh as I thought to myself; I never was used to consoling someone before. "It'll be okay... I mean... you know Elle. She'll never let Geoffrey off like that. Not after what he did. And... and neither will you." I was still looking at him, and he was still looking away from me. "Don't you ever feel as though you need to be the Demon Barber again?"

"_No_," Sweeney now sat ridgidly in his chair, looking straight ahead again.

"You aren't a coward," I added, refusing to let him go on. "I know you aren't."

"And killing off hundreds of men wasn't cowardice in itself?" He growled.

"Killing off hundreds of men was a terribly cowardice act, yes," I held up a hand before he could cut in. "_But_, in a heartbeat, you should be prepared to kill for your family if you have to. _That _act _isn't_ cowardice."

"I may protect your family, Valerie," Sweeney's words were curt. "But that in no way means I am apart of it."

I gaped up at him for a moment, silent. Then I sharply got up from the floor and strode across the room, passing in front of him on my way to the door. "_Well_... I'm glad Grandma wasn't here to hear that."

"Valerie-"

Ignoring him, I stormed outside and slammed the door behind me.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Ouch.<strong>_

_**These two never learn.**_

_**This chapter is longer than usual, and I'm quite satisfied with it. I'd been meaning to have another chapter involving Valerie's interactions with Derek.**_

_**And by the way... a picture of Lucy is in my profile now. I'm still looking for one of Tobit.**_

_**Hope you enjoyed. :) Next chapter'll hopefully come sooner than this one did.**_

_**Oh yeah, and, uh... this has absolutely NOTHING to do with ANYTHING, but... Captain Jack Sparrow's theme song: h t t p : / / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m / w a t c h ? v = j h e E i _ R 0 k V 0**_

**_God, I wish you didn't have to space links. x.x_**


	28. Inklings of Innocence

**_Chapter 28_**

_We just got back._

_I don't remember exactly where we are getting back from, but we're back._

_I break away from Mummy and Sev, who both head into the parlor together to talk in hushed voices. Daddy had walked ahead, probably up to his and Mummy's room. I stand in between the archway into the parlor and the stairs, torn between each small party. Figuring Daddy must be lonely, upstairs all by himself, I decide to make a break for the stairs, ignoring Sev's quiet whimpers from the next room over, as well as Mummy's gentle whispers in many attempts to console him._

_As I walk up the stairs, I reach my tongue up to the level of the roof of my mouth, jiggling the loose tooth that hung there from the gum, preparing to fall at any moment. I hadn't understood why teeth fall out until Daddy explained that the tooth fairy would come and bring me money if, when I finally get the tooth out, I put it underneath my pillow._

_Suddenly, the idea of teeth falling out didn't seem as scary. He _said _it'd grow back in anyway._

_I just don't understand why grownups got jobs when they could just shed their teeth and get money for them, then grow the teeth back again._

_Daddy wouldn't be away so much then._

_As if my thinking alerted the cue, the tooth finally came completely loose when I reach the top of the stairs. I stop dead in my tracks and bring a hand close to my mouth to spit the tooth out before I choke on it._

_Ew!_

_It's covered in _blood!

_Now very much grateful for reaching the top of the stairs before I saw this, I sprint down the hall until I reach Mummy's and Daddy's room. _

_The door is opened to a creak, letting out a ray of light from the window on the other side of the room._

_I delicately push it open with a small, pale hand, to find Daddy sitting on his and Mummy's bed with his head down. His hand rests across his forehead, as if he believes himself to have done something wrong._

_"Daddy?" I peer in at him curiously, wondering why exactly he looks so troubled and tired._

_He lifts his head and looks at me. A smile replaces his original expression of distress. "Oi there, Valerie,"_

_Relieved at the inviting tone of voice, I stroll across the room with my right arm outstretched, palm up to show Daddy the tooth._

_He grins zealously. "I told you, didn't I?" He reaches down to rap his arms around my waist and lift me up from the floor, placing me on his lap. "Well done!"_

_I smile. "When can I put it under my pillow?"  
><em>

_"Anytime you want before tomorrow morning," He replied enthusiastically. "I can honestly say it doesn't matter."_

_We sit in silence for a moment. Me, because I really can't think of anything to say right away, and Daddy, because he seemed to have other things on his mind that he isn't voicing aloud._

_"Daddy?"_

_"Mhm?"_

_"Wh-what's wrong with Mummy, and-and Sev? Why're they-"_

_"Oh," Daddy interrupts me, his voice lower than I had ever heard it in a while. "You... wouldn't understand, sweetheart. It's grownup business, as you would say."_

_"Sev looks scared."  
><em>

_"He... is."_

_"But why?"_

_"Now," Daddy's tone was firm. "I just said it's grownup business, didn't I?" When I hunkered back, stung by his sharpness, he quickly rapped me in a hug, resting his cheek on top of my head. "There, there, Valerie. It's nothing for you to worry about. It never will be. Believe that."_

_I managed to look up at his face, my chin pressed against his chest. "Not even when I'm a grownup too?"_

_"No," Daddy murmured, an edge to his voice. "Never."_

"Val?"

Seville's voice shook me from my memory. I looked up from my lap, lifting a hand to my chest as if thinking it would relieve the heavy stress that pressed down on it, increasing the speed in which my heart pounded. My throat was dry and sore, right up to the roof of my mouth. My legs felt as though they'd give out from under me if I stood up from the chair against the wall in which I sat. My whole body just felt... numb.

The inhabitants in the room included myself, Seville, Grandma, Mum, Sweeney, Derek, Lucy, Tobit, their parents Mr. and Mrs. Barker, and lastly... Dad's body. His casket was going to be closed today, and we all stood in the room in which it resided in complete silence. Derek and his family all sat in the provided chairs that were set up, their heads dipped, while the family surrounded the casket in a thin line.

Sweeney stood at the end, his hands low and clasped together as he peered at Dad through sober, black eyes. Grandma had tears trailing down her cheeks, but she still managed to hold onto Mum, who was currently on the brink of sobbing. Seville had been crying too. He sauntered over to me to offer a hand, and I cautiously took it, my own hand trembling.

I had kept the sight of Dad's body in merely the corners of my eyes all day. I... hated looking at... I was so...

"Thanks," I whispered to Seville, my eyes brimming up with more tears as he rapped his arms around me, holding me close. Then he pulled away from me gently, only moments later, to take me by the hand and guide me over to where Mum and Grandma stood. I hung back, my eyes round.

"N-no, Sev... I don't want..."

"It's okay," He murmured, despite his eyes containing a glint of understanding in them. "You don't think I've been scared too?"

My lower lip trembled slightly as I reluctantly let Seville pull me forward, closer to the casket.

At moments like these, you simply needed to put your fears behind you. It was obviously nothing close to simple. The concept might've been, but the process was not. Simplicity is not always something that comes with a price tag, and when it does, boy, does it hit down hard.

As Grandma stepped to the right a slight to let us get through, I finally saw Dad in a clear view. He was... very pale, and faint cuts littered his face, covered by makeup. He also looked far too young to be lying in a casket, but then again... I never did think people in their early fourties should be anyway. Life is too short as it is, and for it to be taken away from someone on an earlier date than average... it's awful.

But unlike what I had expected, this wasn't the only thought occupying my mind. The other was a nagging, torturous voice in the back of my head, whispering, "You could've saved him..." over and over again.

I knew that. I knew that so well, and yet... when the time called for it, I didn't do anything.

Was I that much of a coward?

"Come on, Val," Seville gave the sleeve of the black blouse I was wearing a tug, trying to get my attention which was currently drifting off again.

I blinked, my eyes once again focusing on Dad.

_Daddy._

I rapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling ice cold again as more tears stung the back of my eyes. But before I could hesitantly step forth with Seville to say my goodbyes, Mr. Todd stepped in front of us instead, blocking our view of the casket.

I looked up, my eyes meeting the back of his head before I could catch sight of his face. With Seville still sticking to me like glue, I led him around to the left beside the barber to see what he was doing.

I couldn't help but inwardly muse that, in appearance, Sweeney really looked like he belonged in the casket much rather than our father did. And speaking of which... I hadn't spoken to the Demon Barber since I slammed the door on him two days prior. And he hadn't spoken to me either.

Not until today.

As Sweeney gazed over my father's body with what looked like a critical eye, I was silently on the defensive, preparing to come out and defend Dad if need be. But after what felt like an hour of waiting, Mr. Todd gave a slow nod of his head, as if responding with a yes to a soundless question. Then he lowered his head and whispered something. Something that sounded an awful lot like, "Rest well, Benny..."

Hm. I liked it. It wasn't overly dramatic, but it wasn't completely, Sweeney Todd-style bitter, either.

When Sweeney turned away from the casket, his eyes brushed past me. I caught them just in time before they moved away, and Mr. Todd stopped for a few heartbeats to stare down at me. I offered a small, somber smile, and I could've sworn he returned it. He moved away too fast for me to tell.

I wiped the tears that had already escaped my eyes on my sleeve, then moved with Seville to the casket's side. It didn't take me long to realize Mum and Grandma had joined us.

I felt another sob rise into my chest when Seville made the first move.

"Bye, Dad." he murmured, reaching in to gently hold Dad's wrist for a moment before backing off.

"We love you," I added hoarsely, nearly too choked up to speak. I looked away, simply unable to view the body anymore. Icy coldness and raging heat surged wildly in my blood, as if not being able to decide what temprature was best.

_Neither._

Just as I was lifting my hand to press the back of it against my fevered forehead, a cool, relieving hand caught around my wrist and carefully pulled me away.

It was Sweeney.

"Calm down," His voice sounded smoother than usual as he took to soothing me.

"Is, uh... is she okay, sir?" Derek's voice broke in, and before I could even tell it was him who spoke, he was already by my side.

"She's fine," Sweeney answered shortly, sounding fairily unnerved at being so close to two children at once.

When he and Derek met that morning, it had gone better than I thought it would. They didn't exactly hit it off, but they were on speaking terms. Derek was cautious around him, naturally. I couldn't say I fully blamed him; How people entered Mr. Todd's shop without having a strange vibe of _some _sort or another was beyond me. Though it was partially a trick of the eyes (not really), he did, come to think of it, look a little more... dark, than most other barbers would be. The intense glares he'd have on each and every day were unsettling in themselves. But perhaps a fake smile and a false twinkle in his eyes was enough to convince people back in 1846. Who knew?

What Derek didn't know wouldn't kill him, so why should I have bothered telling him that his predictions about the Demon Barber of Fleet Street living above my grandmother's house were in fact true?

All this thinking was most certainly not going through my head at the current time. I was still breathing quick, tears streaming down my face at a rapid pace. Sweeney came to stand behind me and rub my shoulders, trying to work a steady, unchanging heat back into my body.

Oh. Either I was, indeed, cold, or Mr. Todd's hands were now warmer.

"I can take her out for a drink, sir," Derek offered, reaching out to grab my left hand.

Sweeney narrowed his eyes at him threateningly over my head, and Derek quickly rephrased what he had just said after he realized how exactly it sounded. "I mean... out into the lobby... where the water fountain is."

Mr. Todd rolled his eyes and released me, shoving me into Derek's arms. "Take care of her, boy, or I'll hear about it." He turned away from us to walk on over to Grandma, who was still lingering by Dad's casket, even after Mum and Seville were starting to move away.

After a brief gulp deep in his throat, Derek grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the archway out into the fancy, clean, marble-floored lobby where few people walked. He led me over to the water fountain in the far corner of the room beside a cushioned bench, though instead of sitting down beside me when I was about to drink, he took to holding my hair behind my shoulders instead to keep it from hanging and getting wet.

Well, it's good to know some men are still _gentle_men. That's right true.

After I was finished drinking, I felt a little better. I plopped down on the bench and pressed myself against the wall. Derek sat down beside me and, well, he certainly helped with making things awkward.

"Th-thanks for that," I spoke, silently cursing my stutter afterwards.

"You're welcome," Derek nodded. "I mean... what are friends for, right?"

I casted him a side glance, not quite feeling like moving my head to a full yet. "...Yeah. I suppose so."

We sat there in silence after that, and I can safely say it wasn't really as awkward.

A friend.

I made one.

When a few minutes passed, Mum and Seville came out of our room, still teary-eyed and emotional. I got up from the bench and walked over to them, frowning.

"Where's Grandma and Mr. T?"

Mum glanced over her shoulder, a faint, disapproving glint in her eyes. "They're just..." As she began, Derek's family all came out as well, alerting Derek himself who perked up from the bench and ran over to them.

"They're just what?" I prompted, tilting my head.

"Augh," Derek's groan interrupted yet again. "Valerie, we need to go... meet you in front of the pie shop tomorrow, maybe?"

I looked his way only briefly and nodded, offering a small smile in his direction. Then I turned back to Mum when the Barkers began heading for the doors back outside, willing her to finish her sentence this time.

"They'll just be taking a little longer, okay, Valerie?" Mum picked out some Kleenex from her pocket and wiped her nose. "Don't bother them." She began pushing Seville for the door. "Put your jacket back on; the next stop is the cemetary. Grandma and Mr. Todd won't be long."

When her back was turned to me, I slunked across the room until I reached the archway, where I halted to poke my head back in and see what those two were doing.

Grandma was openly sobbing now - perhaps harder than Mum had been. She was clinging to Sweeney, who was holding her tightly and letting her cry into his shoulder. He actually looked genuinely saddened himself now, though he was silent, not even speaking and far from sobbing the way she was.

I'd never seen Grandma so hysterical before. It almost made her seem young again, even if I'd never seen her that way before.

"Quiet, Elle," Sweeney murmured, gently breaking apart from her to hold her at arm's length. "What was it you told Valerie just a few days ago? 'Things'll get better, love. They will, 'cause they always do.'?"

At his poorly attempted scheme of mimicking her, Grandma let out a breathy laugh, cracking a slight smile at him. "...Needs a lil' work, love."

Sweeney looked somewhat surprised at first at her swing in moods. He obviously hadn't meant to make her laugh, of all things. But he'd take it. He flashed her a crooked smirk of his own. "See? You're lighting up already."

Grandma pushed away from him good humoredly, wiping away the many stains of tears that fell from her eyes. "_You_, of all people, are sayin' _I'm _lightin' up when this is the first time you've smiled in 'ow long?" She crossed her arms, waiting for a reply.

Sweeney looked at her, his brows furrowed for a few seconds. He knew full well that he was smiling. "I'd like to focus on you for more than twenty seconds, Elle."

"Well, _that'd _be a first, wouldn't it be?" Her voice was sarcastically dry.

That statement elicited an audible chuckle from Sweeney, who brazenly rapped an arm over her shoulders just after and turned her around to face the archway.

"C'mon, Elle."

I ducked back out just in time before they saw me and rested my head against the wall for a second, finding it hard to register everything that I had just seen.

"Let's go, Valerie," Mum's voice sounded from the exit. Her jacket was on, and her face had a glum look about it that took me aback about fifteen minutes prior. "They're going in to... close the casket now."

A few men rushed past Mum, and soon me as I began walking towards her, as well as Mr. Todd and Grandma when they left the room, who were both now looking a little higher in spirits.

When Mum turned, she was surprised to see Grandma with a small smile on her face. Sweeney wasn't too much of an exception.

"What's this about?" Mum asked, looking miffed and confused.

I could sense another obvious question arising right next to that one: What was it with everyone acting so happy?

_Since we came to Fleet Street. _I added to myself, finding the sentence oddly fitting at the end of the question.

I missed Dad. So much.

But that didn't mean we needed to make this time seem worse than it already was. Even as they wheeled a closed, nailed-down casket past us and out the door into the back of the hearse which was waiting by the curb, I was still considering this notion.

I ended up embracing it after a while.

* * *

><p>I woke up the next morning in a cold sweat. Moaning a little, I untangled myself from the blankets and reached up to wipe away the wetness on my forehead. My eyes travelled the floor around me, trying to make sense of what happened the night before.<p>

About a foot away, Seville was sprawled with no blanket on. He was wearing the clothes he had had on for the funeral, and as I peered down my front, I realized I was too. Mum was curled up on the sofa. Grandma was nowhere in sight.

Yesterday evening, we had gotten home from the cemetary and sat in the parlor for the rest of the night. We only spoke when it was absolutely needed.

Dad was buried at the cemetary that Derek and I had gone to - the one with the oak tree with the special initials carved in the trunk.

In all the unhappiness of the day, we had crashed in the parlor without even eating anything. I remembered this part especially, because my stomach was starting to growl the very instant I sat up straight.

I rose from the floor and staggered for the threshold, vaguely beginning to think about meeting with Derek again. When I came into the shop, I was taken by surprise.

Sweeney was sitting at the booth with his head down, it resting in his arms. He was sleeping.

Well... at least I hoped he was.

As I edged closer to him, I noticed the slow, but altogether harsh rise and fall of his chest. His breathing was disturbed, though there wasn't any outer reason as to why that was. But then again, I couldn't ever imagine him resting contently; he always had too much on his mind.

The final statement that concluded the inner ramble was that, to be completely honest with myself, I never pictured him sleeping. Period.

I didn't _know _he slept, or knew how, for that matter, or even found the time to. He _always_ made a point and reason to be up, about, and alert, no matter how pointless the cause turned out to be.

That was why I anticipated a thorough slash to the throat as I approached him, tapped his arm a few times, and waited. The moment my hand made contact with his arm, he was already stirring, as though he was about to get up anyway. He lifted his drooping head, not seeming to notice when a long, black strand of his hair hung in front of his drowsy eyes. He exhaled against the table top, as if the dream that he quite obviously experienced seconds before had tired him out.

"Why are you sleeping here?" I asked softly.

My voice made him look up, his eyes flashing with a new shock the moment they met mine. Humiliation for being caught in such a vulnerable state was most likely just dawning on him.

"Why shouldn't I?" He muttered, his voice thick with sleep. He brushed the overhanging piece of hair away from his face and blinked his dark eyes back into focus, then finally leaned back to peer up at me more clearly.

"You've never slept down here before... in fact, I've never seen you sleep _at all." _I love to voice my thoughts aloud. I have a knack for it.

Sweeney rose an eyebrow, now looking mildly humored. "You'd stick around just to watch me sleep?" He got up from the seat and stretched, still smirking at me slightly.

"Not for the sole purpose," I replied honestly. "But... you're up all night. You're _pacing _all night. Have the bags underneath your eyes never been brought to your attention?"

I think I already knew the answer the moment the thoughtless query left my mouth: he knew about them. He just didn't care.

At the question, Sweeney frowned. His voice was bitter when he spoke again. "My appearance was doomed the very instant I stepped off the London docks."

A sharp pang of sympathy took another vicious blow to my heart when realization struck. I had completely forgotten.

"I-I'm sorry. I really am."

Sweeney stared at me. When he shook his head nonchalantly, I knew no permenant damage had been done; he wasn't one to fake being okay, after all. "Don't worry about it, lass. Folks who ask more of a girl who's father just passed don't deserve the slightest breath of life."

Well... that statement was... unpleasant.

It helped a little though, sorta.

"I don't see why you should ask for much more in the looks department, anyway," I went on, leaning against the counter now as I smiled at him. "You don't really look that bad. Not at all, really."

Mr. Todd froze, not exactly sure as to how to respond to that. He obviously hadn't been complimented on his looks in a very long time. It was in fact very readable in his eyes, almost as though he were saying it aloud.

"...Thank you."

He wasn't smiling when he said this. He still looked heavily confuddled - not flattered.

Of course, it was a special occasion whenever the Demon Barber said thank you for anything. I immediately smiled, but went onto another subject instead of pushing the current one any further. It almost slipped my mind anyway. "I wasn't meaning to tell you, but... I also wanted to say thank you."

"For what?"

Was it me, or was he starting to look a little annoyed at all these kind words being thrown around?

"For cheering Grandma up yesterday," I replied, cringing slightly when his ebony gaze snapped up at me. "I know you... don't usually have that in you... but..."

I studied his face, and I was met with an, "Oh, shit, you saw that?" sort of look.

Puh. I'd have to make up an excuse for spying now.

"You were spying?" He gnarled, now looking a little more pissed than I would've liked.

"My mom wasn't telling me what you two were doing," I explained, folding my arms over my chest out of habit. "I decided to check for myself. I'm sorry."

The "I'm sorry" I put at the end wasn't entirely genuine. I just... liked life.

Sort of.

"So," Sweeney spoke without prompt, his voice having a new brisk feeling to it, the sleepiness gone. "You are thanking me for helping the woman I owe everything to through one of the hardest times of her life?" There was a hint of cynical sarcasm in his words, naturally. If there wasn't, I'd've thought he was coming down with something.

"Well," I felt a smile twitch across my lips. "_You_ said it. Not me."

A rakish smirk lit his features up. By this new look, I could tell his anger was long forgotten about.

I rose a brow; I felt a new borderline of thought form between us. Again. "What're you thinking about?"

"Me?" Mr. Todd's roguish smile didn't leave. "I was, in the spur of the moment, thinking of chasing you around this kitchen with a machete."

"Whoa," I let go of the counter and took a few steps back. "What?"

As odd as it may have sounded, I tended to forget Mr. Todd used to murder people for a living. It's an easier fact to lose sight of than you may think.

But instead of coming at me with something sharp, Sweeney merely snorted good naturedly and strolled across the room, his razor clanking ominously against the holster on his belt. He stood next to me in silence, briefly using my shoulders as an arm rest when he finally came to speak. His voice was wistful as nostalgia came creeping up on him from behind. "Valerie,"

"Yes?" I glanced up at him, narrowing my eyes in suspicion; this was weird behavior for him.

"I'd like to bring to your attention that... I cared for your father a great deal," Apart from the small pause near the beginning, Mr. Todd didn't sound like he was having much difficulty with saying this, despite the fact that he clearly didn't like to show emotion in front of others.

"Really?" It was all I could say.

Sweeney shrugged. "I liked him. He was a good man," He frowned as he went on. "All he wanted was the best for you and your brother."

His arm slid off of me and dropped like a weight at his side. His brooding stare pierced whatever it was he was looking at in front of him, dark and troubled.

"And..." I was slowly starting to catch on. "What was best for us was... apparently not considered _you_."

Sweeney shook out of his trance and fixed me with his stare, his jaw clenching. "I suppose you could say that." Dropping the close few inches between us, he moved back on over to the window. There, he pulled the curtains back to peer outside. Just as I was getting ready to say something reassuring to ease the tension, he spoke again. "Derek."

"What about him?"  
>"He's outside," Mr. Todd looked annoyed again. "I've dealt with lads who don't know how to knock before. Now they're too afraid to."<p>

I rolled my eyes as I strolled past the barber to open the door. "He was probably afraid _you'd_ answer."

I wrenched open the door and smiled at Derek, who stood recoiled and a little freaked when he spotted Mr. Todd behind me. "Hey, Derek."

Surprised that I hadn't called him Barker Boy for once, Derek hesitantly stepped in, his eyes meeting Sweeney's for a brief moment. As soon as he realized he made eye contact, he looked away. "Hey, Valerie..."

"D'you have a reason for being here besides saying you would come?" I asked, crossing my arms at him. "Or do you just need to get away from the house for a while?"

"The latter! Are you kidding?" Derek huffed as he strolled past me to lean against the booth seat, crossing his arms as well. When I didn't say anything, his expression softened a little. Like he really did care - not that I doubted too much. "So... how're you holding up?"

I caught a small glimpse of Sweeney in the corner of my eye. "The _family's_ doing fine..."

Mr. Todd glared at me pointedly.

"Really?" Derek squinted at me. "You... don't look all that fine yourself. How are _you _doing?"

"Same old, same old," I waved off the question, inwardly grimacing. "Fatherless."

"Same old...?" Sweeney muttered these words under his breath, looking on at me in bitter confusion. He hated not understanding.

I didn't blame him. I hated it too.

Especially now.

Derek was sharing the same thoughts, apparently. "Being fatherless is same old?"

I shrugged a little, silent.

He was silent, too, waiting for a quick reply that he'd usually always get if it were me.

But he received nothing.

Barker Boy sighed. "Alright, Lovett. I'll leave you alone right now."

Was it just me, or was being addressed by your last name around here beginning to become a sign of affection? It was like the equivalent to 'sugar', or 'dear', or 'honey'.

Lovett, Barker, Todd, Turpin... well, maybe not _all _the Turpin's, but the one of them that I know - a certain one from the bookstore on Fleet Street - deserves symapthy just as well as any of us did.

And we _did _deserve sympathy. That much I did know.

"Thanks, Derek," Surprising myself, I stepped forth just as he uprighted from the seat, and I... don't laugh. If you laugh, I'll kill you.

I hugged him.

He was a little shocked at first, but he ended up hugging me back.

I didn't get all this... bewildering sadness - I suppose is a good word - out of my system yet. If someone had come to my door a few weeks ago - nearly a _month _ago - and told me that, not long from then, my father would be dead, my mother would be pregnant again, and I'd be living in a building where people were brutally murdered and baked into meat pies, I probably would've kicked them out and told them to go get lost at a mental institute. Or just get lost, because it probably would've been one of Dakota's friends trolling/pulling a prank on me. They _did _know where I lived...

Whether it was a prank or not, they'd've been one hundred percent right.

"Are you still with me, Valerie?" Derek's voice was shockingly close to my ear, and as I looked up, I realized my arms were still around him.

I quickly moved away from him, brushing off the front of my blouse.

"Oh, yeah," Derek nodded to my shirt. "You're wearing the same outfit from yesterday, too."

"Okay, Derek," I yanked on his arm, motioning to the door. "I need some alone time now, remember?"

"Uh, yeah... sure," He let me drag him to the door and eventually open it, where he then stood in the threshold and looked at me with seriousness in his eyes. "And you're absolutely fine with being alone?"

"I've got Mr. No-Talks-A-Lot to keep me company," I jerked my head in Sweeney's direction, smirking a little as I pictured his expression.

Derek frowned at Sweeney over my shoulder, but nodded. "Fine. Be careful." He said that last part a little lower, so the barber wouldn't hear.

"Will do," I breathed, fighting back the urge to sigh stressfully. "And be careful yourself, Barker."

Smiling at his nickname for once, Derek finally turned around a left after giving me a parting look over his shoulder. I waved at him until he left my line on vision. Then I slammed the door and rested against the inner side of it, groaning. "I can only take that kid in small doses."

Sweeney released a chuckle. A _real _one, believe it or not. Quite similar to the one he purred out the day before. Natural, sleek, and warm. "I know what you mean, lass."

I looked up at him in surprise, unable to keep a smile from forming. For a man who hardly ever smiled - let alone spoke - it certainly wasn't hard to identify the fact that his laugh had a string of warmth to it that tended to follow it wherever it chose to go, even if it was half suppressed at times. Definitely not the harsh, mocking utter that I knew he was capable of doing - the cruel, twisted parody of laughter that I could picture him forcing out at a time of brutal throat cutting, to make his victim feel incompetent and helpless seconds before their sticky end.

Yes. He could be a despicable, deceitful criminal with no heart at the best of times. He knew how. He was capable of murder, and I could've woken up on any morning to find everyone in my family dead, all because of him. The fact that he had been wronged in the past couldn't even make up for how bad of a person he had become.

However, the fact that he was now a bad person didn't change the fact that he was once an innocent man with a healthy, happily pulsating heart. And the inklings of innocence still shined through every now and again, even if they weren't as prominent as they had once been. And when they did, Mr. Sweeney Todd wasn't quite the criminal that a shortsighted person might've viewed him as any longer.

As if he could tell I was thinking about him, Sweeney stopped with his quiet, in-and-out laughter. I blinked a few times, just then realizing the smile that had crossed my lips, caused by my very own thoughts.

I used to work my thoughts to headaches. Now I was working them to a smile.

Widening the smile on my own accord, I finally moved from my spot next to the door and sat down, the previous feeling of hunger in my stomach now long forgotten about. There, I placed my elbows up on the table and rested my face into the palms of my hands. I was talking into them when I spoke. "Mr. Todd?"

"Yes?"

I was still smiling when I replied. "I... don't want to leave."

"Leave?" He edged across the room toward me, looking confused.

"Here," I explained slowly, finally lifting my head to look straight up into his pallid face. "I don't want to leave... _here_."

"Is that so?" Sweeney's new smile appeared to be on a border between hesitation and fervor, but regardlessly had the word 'mischief' written all over it. "Elle _said _you'd say that."

I stared at him, blank. Then I silently rose from the booth and walked right on up to him, where I all but mindlessly rapped my arms around his middle and hugged him; it wasn't like I could reach his shoulders.

He didn't freeze like he did the first time, however. The faint shaking of his torso told me he was chuckling again, though it was evidently on mute. What he found so amusing, I didn't know.

When he let one arm rest behind my upper back, part of me was sincerely screaming to back out and away from his grasp; for all I knew, he probably had a razor edge that he was planning on sticking into the back of my neck.

The other part of me insisted I stay still.

I found myself listening to that voice instead.

It was right, and I didn't need to look up to know Mr. Todd was smiling down at me.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Ah. Happiness. *_* I think this story needed some. XD<strong>_

_**And as much as I would like to end this story on such a happy note such as, say, the ending to this chapter... well, it's not called 'Deathly Inherit' for nothing. I'm not gonna say why, but, I want you to start keeping that title in mind over the next several chapters to come. It's... important.**_

_**Thank you to EleKat for reviewing! :)**_


	29. No Accord of Mine

_**Chapter 29**_

A returning feel of hunger reached my belly as I pulled away from Sweeney. His surprisingly strong scent stirred my innards the wrong way, bringing that uncomfortable feeling back to consciousness. It consisted of gin and cologne, with, if I was not mistaken, a coppery smell that reminded me a lot of... blood.

You guessed it.

It nearly had me choking up.

Noticing the face I pulled, Mr. Todd narrowed his eyes and dropped the last of the weight his hands had on my shoulders. "Is something wrong?"

"No," I replied shortly, blankly musing the odd swing in mood. "I'm... hungry, is all." I turned away from him and walked over to the refrigerator that Grandma installed only days after she moved in here, years ago. All this time, it was still the same one.

I grabbed the first thing I saw: a pear. I came to the sink and rinsed it just as Mr. Todd took position on the other side of the counter.

"That's not the whole truth, now is it?"

I rapped a paper towel around the pear just briefly to dry off the surface a little, then bit into it as I swiveled around to face Sweeney. "No. It isn't. Why can I smell blood on you?"

_Don't you dare lie, Mr. Todd._

He didn't look particulary fazed by the question, as I thought he might've. He just blinked. "Why do you think?"

I was a little thrown off by his expressionless tone at first. I shook my head lightly, realizing that that was probably what his plan had been. I took another bite out of the pear before placing the back of my hands against my hips, making sure I didn't drop the fruit. "You... have a night shift at a butcher shop?"

Had I not used this question for the purpose of accusing him of something, he probably would've laughed.

"Oh," Sweeney's smile now only contained a wan feel about it - not exactly warm any longer. "I slit the throats of a few less honorable men, and everything I do to follow is marked as an act of slaughter?"

_Yes!_

I sighed. "Can you just answer the question?"

"If it helps my _case_, I never washed my jacket sleeve after I accidentally cut myself." Sweeney looked angry again, and... if I didn't know any better, a little hurt. He faced away from me, muttering to himself as he made for the side door, but I called out to him before he could reach for the knob.

"Wait!" I took the first few quick steps across the room to him, the pear now held lower at my side. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Derek out the window. He was sauntering in the opposite direction on the other side of the street. I looked back up at Sweeney, who was prompting me with a silent glare.

"I'm sorry," I explained, carefully edging around him to lean against the side door frame. "Knowing you, I won't even try to ask you to go easy on me; You've had it rough. I haven't... but... I guess that's why I act so weird around you sometimes. I've," I cracked a weak smile at him. "never met a... retired killer before..."

"And I've never met such an indignant girl such as yourself," Sweeney retorted, a coat of bitterness still tingeing his voice ever so slightly.

"I take pride in that," I stated, lifting my chin. "And," I held up a hand before he could say anything. "I'm sure _you_ take pride in knowing that you could throttle every living member of my family with only one hand if you so desired."

"I've learnt not to act upon all of my desires," Mr. Todd murmured, placing his hand on the knob of the door. "That is why your grandmother hasn't joined your father in the ground already, along with your mother."

I faltered, stunned that he'd ever say something so horrible.

But in that same moment, I realized that he was right.

What I was about to say to insult him was wrong.

Swallowing down the part of me that was deeply hurt by his statement, I scuffed my foot across the floor when I spoke. "Why have you... held back from killing them, then?"

"Sometimes listening to your inner desire isn't always the right path to take," His voice was a few tones above a whisper. "Sometimes they're wrong too... and," he snorted. "besides, who else but Elle would bring up breakfast, lunch, and dinner? I can't say you three are all that comfortable around me... not as much as _she _is."

I pushed away from the wall, smirking. "I think you care about her."

"She's not herself when she's upset," Sweeney explained delicately, frowning. There wasn't much anger left in his eyes. "But... enough on that. I don't want you to think I'm going off hurting anyone. It's a hard thing to adapt to - not putting these razors to use," He clutched the silver handle sticking up from the holster. "When Elle... found me, I thought the least she could've done is house me in my one and only home," He looked around the room when he said this. "I never thought it'd do justice to wipe away the bloodstains. They were once there and rapidly dripping for a reason. Because of me. And this place was considered haunted - Elle supposed no one would enter, and no one has," His eyes flicked back down at me, glinting in the morning light. "That was, of course, until _you_ showed up."

I smiled, simply feeling it the right moment to do so. Mr. Todd allowed a faint smile of his own to break into his usual, bitter grimace. He glanced outside, and seeing Derek, he grabbed hold of my shoulders and flipped me around until I was the one closest to the door.

"Enough with this... sentimental rubbish, lass. Go have fun." His voice grew teasing by the end.

My smirk reformed. "To what extent, concerning Derek?"

"You know I won't tolerate any fancy protest from you," Sweeney reached over me to turn the knob and open the door. "I drank heavily last night. My head's pounding."

"Is that why you were sleeping at the booth?" I asked curiously, despite him shoving me out the door.

"I can't imagine you understanding unless you've walked in my shoes."

He shut the door.

"I can walk in your shoes," I crossed my arms, now staring at solid wood and nothing more. "I still don't think I'd understand you any better."

When I received no response - not even a muffled one from the other side of the door, I turned away and scanned the long stretch of cobblestone sidewalk across the street, looking for Derek.

I spotted him, but not how I'd pictured.

An old lady was clutching both his arms in a tight grasp, talking incisively to his face. He was trying his hardest to struggle away, but she was obviously stronger than he had thought.

"Hey!" I called, choosing to sprint over immediately rather than stand and watch. As I came closer, I realized she was, as Grandma addressed her, Mooney. Or Mrs. Mooney, more formally spoken.

"Wha'd'ya want with the Lovett's, boy?" She rasped, staring Derek down threateningly.

He looked horrified.

"Wait - uh... you!" I skidded to a halt at least two feet away from the pair of them, jumping a little when her head snapped up to meet my look.

Yeah. She was definitely the one who grabbed me. She was wearing the same thing she had been the first time I saw her, with a long, dark blue poncho trailing on the ground around her feet, and a scarf around her head, the same color to match the poncho. It covered any hair from sight - if she had any.

Around her neck was a necklace, the pendant that of a silver, cresent moon.

"Valerie Lovett," She murmured, her hands dropping from Derek's shoulders in an instant.

"Should I get someone, Valerie?" Derek demanded, cringing when Mooney started towards me.

"No," I answered quickly, narrowing my eyes at the woman. "Let me speak to her first."

Derek didn't move from his spot. He just stared, his arms limply hanging at his sides.

"You've... grown." Mooney muttered, grabbing a strand of my curly hair quite briefly, frowning at it.

"That's funny," I hesitantly pulled away, snatching the piece of hair away from her clutch. "Teddy Turpin said the same exact thing."

"Don't listen to that... that rude, disrespectful man," Mooney growled, looking particulary angry now. "He doesn't know his place, he don't."

"Last I checked, he's making more sense than you are," I retorted. "Kinder, too."

She snorted, but obviously didn't care much to continue onward with the subject. "Tell your grandmother... the _brew's_ almost ready."

I tilted my head to one side, confused. "What? What does that mean?"

"In those exact words, girl," She snapped. "You need not worry. It's Elle's responsibility. Not yours."

I was getting tired of hearing that. Majorly.

"She'll tell Mrs. Lovett later," Derek promised Mooney as he grabbed my arm, dragging me away pointedly.

"I will, Derek," I turned my back on Mrs. Mooney and began walking next to my friend, yanking my arm out of his hand as I went. "What... what do you think she _meant? _"The _brew's _almost ready"?"

"I don't know!" He exclaimed. "If anyone should know, it should be you!"

I shot my head backwards, surprised at his tone. "Ex_cuse _me, Barker! Did you get a bruise where she grabbed you, or something?"

"Actually... yeah," He rubbed his upper arm with a gentle hand, cringing at the light pressure.

I snorted. "All because of me. I should go kill myself, shouldn't I?"

He could tell I was being sarcastic. "Why not? The world _would _be a better place with fewer people in it, right?"

I punched him in the arm, just below the bruise. "Can it, Derek. If you're the cause of my demise, you're going down with me."

He laughed, despite the quick jerk his arm made to keep away from my fist. I joined in, breaking the faint tension immediately.

Not that it exsisted for long.

"Hey," Derek cut his laughing short. "Look." He pointed straight ahead down the sidewalk, until, on the corner, a boy who looked to be around our age came into sight. He had brighter, flaxen colored hair that was just a small touch longer than Derek's, nearly touching his shoulers, and he wore a long, orange t-shirt and dark beige shorts. The one thing that most definitely stood out (and just so happened to make me jump back a foot, at least) was the fact that, where his left arm should've been, was nothing. A stub was in its place, not even long enough to be in view unless looked at directly.

"Hey!" Derek called, waving at this boy who was evidently his friend. "Casey!"

The boy looked to his right, and when he saw us, he flipped around with bright eyes and a smile.

"You're back," Derek remarked, trotting forward without even looking at me. "What's up, bro?"

"Augh," Casey ran his one and only hand through his hair, groaning. "Mum wanted to return early. Something about... school, and picking up the grades ahead of time." He smirked at Derek, and Derek returned this sly look.

It was then that it occurred to me: school _was _starting in only... a _week_? God, the beginning of summer break had started and ended too quick for even making time for an overview.

"And... who is this lovely creature?" Casey looked over Derek's shoulder at me, raising his eyebrows.

"This is Valerie Lovett," Derek explained, his eyes fleetingly flicking over my own shoulder down the street as he spoke. "She's the granddaughter of Elle Lovett..."

"Really?" Casey's blue eyes looked as though they were about to bulge right out of his head. "She-she lives in 186, doesn't she?"

"And proud to say so," I put forward, crossing my arms. "I've been staying with her for a while - no ghosts."

That wasn't really a lie.

Looking surprised that I obviously already knew what he was going to say, Casey shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly anxious. "Mrs. Lovett caught us sneaking around there once. Told us to stay out if we knew what was best for us. No doubt it's 'cause the Demon Barber's still on the loose, whether folks like it or not," He squinted at me. "_I_ think he still lives."

"A-among us?" Derek stammered, stealing a nervous glance at my face before I could catch it. "C-come on, Case! That... can't be true. Just because no one of this time was around when they found a body down in the old bakehouse - that doesn't mean it never happened. They probably took any remains and brought them somewhere where no one would find them."

_I've got a remain worth every petty story in my grandmother's kitchen right now, Barker. And he's alive._ I was fortunate enough to keep this statement to myself.

"Do you know the life expectancy of a demon, Derek?" Casey questioned, his voice not needing to be heightened in order to catch our full attention.

"Is it... long?" I asked quietly, not realizing I had rapped my arms around myself for reassurance.

"Could be," Casey answered, tilting his head towards me. "How should I know? I've never met a demon."

The three of us were silent again.

Desperately wanting to get off this uncomfortable subject, I looked down towards the place in which his left arm should've been, frowning. "So... how did... _that _happen?"

"Oh," Casey looked down his shoulder at the stub, smirking. "It happened last year. Broke my arm, they put it in a cast, and it never got better," He looked back up at me. "So they lopped it off. You know how it goes."

"Yeah," I rubbed my own left arm with my right hand. "It happens to me all the time..." The way he explained it didn't make all that much sense, but I supposed there was some way in which an adult would explain it, and it'd be a little more surgically involved. "How did you break your arm, anyway?"

Casey's eyes were alit once again. "I skateboarded off a roof! The school's roof, no less!"

"In fact, even better," Derek touched knuckles with Casey, wearing a crooked grin.

He looked far more commonplace with another boy. Like he did whenever I saw him hanging with Tobit, even if they were much farther apart in age.

"_Dude_," (I had a feeling I'd be hearing that word a lot between these two)Derek gasped, his hand dropping down by his side in a sharp movement. "How are you going to balance on your skateboard with only one arm? You _need _the other."

Casey brought his hand up to his chin, tapping his lower lip with one finger. If he had usage of the other arm, I pictured it'd be resting at his hip. "I could... always get a mechanical one."

"No, I-I think that only if the limb is hooked up to your blood circulation can you balance with it," Derek protested, looking heavily confused now.

"I could ask them to make me one that sticks straight out all the time," Casey put forward, as though it were some important proposition.

As ridiculous as I felt for doing so, I joined in on the debate. "Well that's a stupid idea; what if you were walking through a narrow doorway? You'd get stuck."

"_Damn_, Valerie's right," Derek's shoulders sagged.

Ooh. Bummer.

* * *

><p>We ended up walking back to Casey's house, which was much farther away from Fleet Street than Derek's was. I, in fact, felt scarily not-at-home in the new environment. It was... a little more colorful. Not terribly.<p>

Derek decided to go in to catch up with his friend, but I stayed out; I wanted to get a walk in before it started getting dark. I wasn't really thinking about the dangers of being outside at a time like this.

That was, of course, until I got nearer to Fleet Street.

As I turned the corner onto said street, I saw absolutely no one in sight. The ominous slamming of a door in the distance made me look over my shoulder, my heart jumping. The once humid, pretty night that I experienced two days before Dad's funeral seemed a mile away now, lost with my diminishing confidence. The air was cold. There was no other way to describe it.

Footsteps across the cobblestone several feet behind me made me look over my shoulder once again, only to be met with nothing. No one.

But even after I forced my face forward again, picking up the pace, I still heard them. They continued in the alleys to my left, not stopping. Every time I could swear to have seen someone passing in between two shops, I'd look and end up staring at empty spaces.

_"Not one man, no, nor ten men, nor a hundred can assuage me..."_

I stopped dead in my tracks, and my heart which I believed to never be capable of stopping in its rapid pumping slowed. When my feet brought me to a halt, the pair of shoes padding through the alleys knew to do so as well.

That voice.

I _knew_ that voice.

I flipped around on the spot, feeling strong chills sweeping past me, ruffling my blouse and buffeting my hair in the opposite direction in which it fell. Around me, I felt the precence of many others. More footsteps. The clopping of hooves against the pavement, followed closely by wheels. Whispers turned to shouts, those similar to a busy street without any cars. Before I knew it, I could _see _the wind rushing past me, strong enough to nearly take me off my feet had I not pressed down hard to keep myself upright and standing.

_"I will have you!"_

A hand found its way around my neck, alongside a glistening knife flecked with dried blood at the edge.

I managed to scream this time. And punch.

I received a grunt at the impact of the swing I threw this person's way, but that was all. Geoffrey's voice from above me didn't keep me from falling even deeper into the blackness that was engulfing my vision.

"Where's your mother, lassie?"

Instead of responding, I fell to the ground at his feet, and my eyes slid shut.

"Oh, this is _no_ time to play dead, girly," His foot shot out, kicking me. "Get back up! You may still be fortunate enough to have your life spared!"

I would've listened, but I couldn't help it. I _certainly_ wasn't playing dead.

I just had to succumb to what was claiming me, like many times prior.

None of this was my decision.

None of it.

* * *

><p><em><strong>No. Of course Casey wasn't inspired off of K.C. from <strong>_**Clifford the Big Red Dog, _the dog with only three legs (and one of my favorite characters). Why in the world would you think that?_**

**_;D_**

**_Yes. If you were wondering, Valerie _does _slip unconscious at the end. Again. The next chapter should be interesting..._**

**_Thank you to EleKat (Did you get my message? I replied), Storyteller222 (Lol. I hope 'strange' is a good thing in your views), and xSilentDawnx (I'm glad you liked Sweeney's and Valerie's nearly-too-overly sentimental moment. :) I don't mean to make things that sappy. It just... happens) for reviewing!_**


	30. The Mooney Residence

_**Chapter 30**_

I woke up with a severely numb cheek. It was pressed against the cold, cobblestone street. Still.

But the light of a brighter, more colorful day was a major difference in scenery.

Remembering the events just before I passed out, and briefly considering the possibility that I might've slept on the street all night, I staggered to my feet and looked around.

I recongnized the building across the street as Mrs. Mooney's, and when I turned, I found myself face to face with 186 Fleet Street.

_How did I get moved over here?_

_Did Geoffrey carry me?_

_Why would he do _that_?_

A familiar voice - Grandma's voice - jolted me from all these questions I was thinking up. It sounded around the corner, in the courtyard.

"Poor dear's probably got sun in 'er eyes, love,"

Coming from the same direction was the shrill racket of what sounded suspiciously like... a _baby cry?_

Sweeney's rough voice joined the evident conversation moments later. "She's got a good pair of lungs on her. I'll give her that."

"It's a shock she ain't related to you, Sweeney,"

_Wait._

Was that...?

Hurriedly, I ran for the courtyard fence and flipped around the corner before I could prepare myself for what I saw next.

It was Dad!

Beside him stood Mum, looking anxious as usual. Grandma stood on Dad's other side, her hands on her hips. Sweeney was sat at one of the tables with his back to all of them, occasionally taking a sip from what looked like a can of beer.

I practically leaped over the fence and sprinted towards Dad, hoping with all my might that I could give him a hug.

What I got in response was either the cold shoulder, or obliviousness.

I came to a skidding halt when I noticed Dad's hands were already full. He was peering down at something he held in his arms.

It was crying.

A _baby?_

"I forgot how to laugh, Benny," Sweeney replied quite late to Dad's statement, eyeing the can with bitter disinterest.

"Yeh really 'ave," Grandma agreed, breaking away from Mum and Dad to place her hands on either side of Mr. Todd's shoulders, smiling down at him affectionately. "Lighten up, love. S'what Benny needs right now."

Sweeney stood up silently after finishing the rest of the can and crushing it with only one hand. He tossed it across the yard, and it made a perfect landing within the small trash bin just beside the side door. He smirked.

Mum looked up from the baby to scowl at the barber. "Can you _please _ask him to stop throwing things around Valerie, Elle?"

When my name reached my ears, I continued to look on in shock.

The baby... it was _me_?

"Mr. T," Grandma called over her shoulder as she bended down to reach into the cooler which was sitting beside the fence. "Would yeh please stop-" She uprighted with another beer can but broke off abruptly when she turned back around, gasping. She was met with a growing, roaring noise coming from the grill sitting on the far side of the courtyard, flames licking at the frankfurters which were sitting atop the white hot bars. She dropped the can off on the table and ran to the grill to help the fire die down just a little before it decided to engulf the whole thing. Sweeney watched her with mild interest. He was leaning down against the end of the table, having an odd look on his face when Valerie - I - started wailing again.

Mum sighed. "Benny, go help your mother. Give Valerie to me,"

Reluctantly, Dad gave me back to Mum and hurried over to Grandma's side to help her with the grill.

As he did this, I turned my head to look at Sweeney again.

It was then that I noticed something about him that I had not noticed before: this was obviously a long time ago, if I was just a baby, so... why did he look exactly the same now as he did then? It was like he never aged...

Another bout of sobbing from me, and Mr. Todd finally had enough. He sighed with stress and walked straight up to Mum, managing to hold a look that suggested he was about to do something that he sincerely didn't want to do, but had to.

"Give her to me."

Mum held me away immediately. _"No."_

I took to sitting on the bench beside the table, watching intently. I already got the jist that they couldn't see me. If he hurt me in any way when I was a baby, I was obviously still alive and not able to remember it.

"Mr. Todd," Grandma looked over her shoulder at him. "Don't do anything 'arsh."

Sweeney rolled his eyes; Mum was still keeping me out of his reach, despite the fact that I was still crying. "Who was the first to guess I'd do anything harsh? I..." He paused. "...I've dealt with infants before."

Grandma looked surprised that he'd mention this, while Mum just scoffed.

"Define _'dealt with'_, Mr. Todd." Mum looked exasperated and incredibly edgy.

Gently, Sweeney edged a little closer to finally pull me out of Mum's arms, keeping his eyes pinned on her face. "There was once a time where all you needed to do was sing to your children, Amri," His voice was uncharacteristically soft.

Could this have possibly been what he was like when he was nurturing? I always thought it hard to picture, but maybe now I'd be seeing it right before my eyes.

"Well," Grandma placed her hands on her hips, while Dad glanced up with a smile. "Get on with it then, Mr. T."

"No, no," Sweeney lightly shook his head, a smirk filled with much less malicious intent than usual crossing his mouth. It was a smile that seemed to show off all his years of experience. He only held me in one arm and used his other hand to wave off the notion when he spoke again. "I will not be crooning today. That much is true." He snapped his attention back down to me, and by the time his black eyes visibly fixed on something, I could tell he was locking his gaze with mine. By the time he did this, my crying ceased immediately, breaking off in an abrupt amount of time.

Silence filled the courtyard.

Mum pressed a hand to her chest. "What... what did you do to her?"

Even I sat up a little straighter, my eyes round.

What _did _he do? It was like he killed me - or my voice - with only a look.

Sweeney looked around at everyone's expression and was unable to keep a straight face, let alone contain a quiet chuckle. "It's alright."

Though, when he looked away, I was still whimpering a little. His smile vanished as he pressed me closer to his chest, shushing me.

Grandma crossed her arms and smiled as she watched. Dad grinned at her, then went back to taking the frankfurters off the grill. Mum still looked alert for anything that seemed a little off about the barber's actions. I just... continued to stare, frustrated at the fact that I couldn't, at the moment, find a better word to describe how surprised I was.

"See?" Sweeney handed me back to Mum, his usually murky, colorless eyes glinting in the afternoon sun. "No harm done. They're," he nodded in baby me's direction, a reluctantly earnest look on his face. "pretty simple when... when you get right down to it." His expression changed drastically from sincere to paranoid as he sat back down on the bench - right beside me, though he obviously didn't know this - and let his eyes rest upon the table's surface, a frown twisting his mouth and his brows pulling together to make him look a little more like himself.

Mum looked straightforwardly confused, of course. She continued to cradle me as she headed for the side door. "I'm going to go check on Seville - see if he wants to come outside and join us for lunch."

At her words, Sweeney appeared more upset than usual. Seeing this, Grandma left Dad's side and copied her actions before, placing her hands on the barber's shoulders. She wasn't smiling this time, however.

"S'alright, deary. Everyone 'as nightmares. Yours are jus'... more prominent than others," It didn't take her long to offer a weak smile, as predictable as it was. She then sat down on his other side, opposite me, and placed her hand over his. "What more can I do to convince yeh, love? You're the kind o' man that someone needs to try everything on in order to get an impression right."

Sweeney looked up from facing downward, his eyes wide. He turned his head to look at Grandma with a vacant expression. "Y'know... you're the first woman to ever tell me that," he looked away, peering over the fence and into the distance, seeming as though he were in a more peaceful state of mind. "I... don't necessarily hate it."

A grin broke out across Grandma's face, and a laugh escaped soon after. She didn't hesitate to practically tackle him over on top of me in the the process of giving him a hug; he uprighted too fast for this to happen.

"Heh, a-alright," It was blatantly clear that he was trying not to laugh as he freed his arms from getting pressed against his sides. "That's enough, Elle. I need to keep up my image, don't I?"

"Oh," Grandma rolled her eyes and detached herself from him, eyeing the all-too-clear beam that he now wore, even as he brushed off the front of his jet black vest and avoided eye contact in a way that suggested he wasn't going to let her know that she had actually managed to momentarily cheer him up. "Yeh say that, love, but yeh don't mean it."

I watched them as they continued on with their little banter, taking pleasure in seeing them get along so swimmingly for once.

They seemed... happier, when Mum, Dad, Seville, and I were there with them. There were a few moments involving great tension every now and then, so it seemed. But the atmosphere around Grandma and Sweeney seemed so much more positive, like they were sincerely in much better moods.

Maybe things changed between them just a bit, when me and my family stopped visiting Fleet Street for such a long time...

As my vision glazed over, the people who were walking past the shop suddenly caught my attention.

A lot of them were... smiling. Their clothes were ranging from pretty much every color of the rainbow, and the sky above me was blue with a dazzling sun, reflecting on the cobblestone. Shops across the street were open, and some even had signs up for help wanted.

_What is this place, and what has it done to Fleet Street?_

Just as I shook my head to clear it and focus on my grandmother and the barber once again... all was black.

I gave myself a shake, and woke with a start. I was sitting on a bed with a white sheet, in a plain beige room with no windows and a ceiling with chipping paint.

Where was I _now?_

"I take it you're starting to remember, lassie?"

"Huh? What?" I gasped out and took a quick look to my right, spotting Mrs. Mooney sitting on a cushioned chair against the wall, peering at me with inquiry in her eyes.

"Why am I here?" I demanded, swinging my legs over the side of the bed immediately, only to be stopped by a sharp pain that shot through me, making me double over.

"A nasty fall on the street and a swift kick to the back," she tutted, shaking her head distastefully. "It's a miracle you still live."

I managed to lift my head up again, squinting at her through a sudden fuzziness. "You know who Geoffrey is... don't you?"

"That I do," she nodded. "I don't believe I've ever been more repulsed with another human being in all my life."

"Well," I grunted as I came to sit again, clutching my aching side with a trembling hand. "At least we agree on _something_."

She murmured her incoherent response, still staring at me creepily and silently. I returned the gaze, my breath the only sound in the room to break the silence. Her breathing was muted, if she was even breathing at all.

"Uh..." I put a hand to my head, giving it a light shake. "Wh-what was it you said before... about... about remembering?"

"You've been here too long _not _to remember, but nonetheless," Mooney stood up from the chair and crossed in front of my bed to the other side, where a small table sat with what looked like an empty, glass vile atop it. She lifted the vile into view. "I needed to inject you with a _little_..."

"In-_inject_ me?" I glanced down at my arms frantically, looking for a puncture hole that I was soon to realize I would never find. "What do you _mean_?"

"Why did you grow so accustomed to 186 Fleet Street, Valerie?" She rasped, her grayish-blue eyes flicking straight in my direction. "It's because you've been there too many times to count."

"Well, when I was a baby, maybe-"

"No, no, no," She cut me off, suddenly looking very crabby. "It's _because _your folks wanted that memory of yours erased, so you wouldn't remember anything but little details about all the things that you saw."

It took me a moment to comprehend what she had just said. When it finally sunk in, my voice died in my throat.

I stared at her, lost.

If she just said what I thought she did, I was _horrified_. I was... horrified wasn't even a strong enough word.

"Did... did you just... say?" I couldn't help the tremor from manipulating my voice, making it sound like anything _but _my own.

"I did, lassie," She narrowed her eyes at me. "That brother of yours... he's got it too. Maybe that'll explain a few things, eh?"

That... made sense of a _lot_ of things.

"So... wait," I got up from the bed once again, quickly taking to leaning against the nearby wall for support, just beside the small table. "Let me get this straight," I pointed at her. "_You _are telling me that some of my memory got erased, along with my brother's?"

"Quick as a whip, girl," Mooney set the vile back down and reached out with an arm to let me lean into it instead. "I never completely throw out a memory though..." She tilted her head in the vile's direction. "Unless it's downright awful."

"And... how does that work?" I followed her gaze, frowning; this was a little too similar to _Harry Potter _for even _my _taste (and I love those books).

"It gets distorted into a powder - or dust, I suppose you could say. It needs to be released and shrouded upon a person to return it to its rightful place."

"And... what if it's the wrong person?" I asked slowly, tilting my head forward.

"Well, the wrong person would get the wrong memory injected then, wouldn't they?" The idea didn't seem to bother her that much.

"And, uh, one more question, if you will...?"

"Mm?"

"How would a memory be extracted from someone? Do you... drill into their head, or something?"

She looked alarmed at the very notion. "'Course not!"

"Well... then how's it done?"

"What with all the machinery that I've... developed, it's not all that hard of a task to complete."

"Oh..." I exhaled, then let my gaze fall to my shoes, where it stayed until Mooney jolted it away.

"You should be getting back home, dear," As I looked up, I saw the very first spark of compassion in her eyes.

"Ugh," I groaned, slapping the back of my hand to my forehead; no one needed to know that I _was _growing steadily fond of the old pie shop... so much as to the point where I really wouldn't mind staying there. "How many times must I tell you people? 186 Fleet Street is _not _my-"

"Not 186," She snapped, her glare returning. "Your _home_, home."

"The... the house?" I murmured, taken aback by her tone.

"You don't want to be here anymore, do you?" She rose an eyebrow.

"I..." I clasped my hands together in front of my waist, hiding the fact that my green eyes were welling up just a little. "Of... of course I don't. I'll... tell my Mum and brother..." Silently, I headed for the door, only to be stopped by Mooney again.

"I just want you to know that it's alright... if you tell your brother about his memory," Sympathy was still clear on her face.

"I was going to anyway," I looked back at her, confused.

"Well... I just don't want you to believe that everything needs to be kept a secret," She stated this in all seriousness.

I gave a numb, halfhearted nod of my head. "Thank you..." As I turned back around and opened the door, I realized one last question that I hadn't brought up, and would've really liked to know. "Mrs. Mooney... what happened between my brother and Mr. Todd? Seville... he can't remember a thing, but Sweeney can."

"Hmph," Mooney snorted with ill-humored amusement. "You're just like your grandmother - addressing the Demon Barber by his first name."

"No she doesn't," I tilted my head. "She calls him 'Mr. Todd' and 'Mr. T' all the time. The only time I ever heard her call him Sweeney was when she was drunk."

"I know memories better than anyone in this city," She murmured, not looking as proud as one would think her to be. "Elle _used _to call him Sweeney, when she first met him. She was only nineteen."

_"What?" _That made me flip around completely. "That's impossible!"

"How so?"

"In the dream I just had, I was a _baby_. Sweeney still looked like he was in his mid fourties. He should be at least a _little _older by now, shouldn't he? Not exactly the same..."

Mooney stared at me, silent. When she spoke, it was totally off that topic, though her face didn't give away anything that suggested she was uncomfortable. "When Seville was eight years old, he got into Mr. Todd's shop. The barber was sleeping, but... he was experiencing, of course, a bad dream. When he woke up, he was in a very dazed and confused state. He ended up thinking Seville was... someone else, and he pinned the boy to the wall and put a razor to his throat. You know the details, I take it?"

I briefly thought back to Sweeney doing just that to Seville to "ring a bell" as he put it, a few moments before we went downstairs to find out Mum was injured at the motel. "Yes... I know the details."

"Well," She straightened and walked over to me to push the door further open. "There's the answer to your question then. Seville can't remember _that_, but I left those last few fragments of fear in him... to ensure that he'd never return."

Her hand lingered on my upper back, but I shook away from it with a sudden glare and left through the threshold without another word, disgusted.

We had been _ripped off_, Seville and I.

I promise, there'd be no forgiving this time.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Chapter thirty! Yeh! *flails*<em>**

**_I'm happy I've gotten so far. I feel bad for Val, however. I had a feeling, by the first chapter, that there'd be a moment where I'd feel deeply sorry for her._**

**_I'm sure this chapter answered many questions, of course. There's still many chapters similar to go. :)_**

**_I thank you all for your gracious reviews. valley of the dead oaks, you're a new one. Thank you very much for such kind words. :D_**


	31. Five Minutes Since

_**Chapter 31**_

I stormed across the street in a huff, fuming. All worries concerning Geoffrey were forgotten about; I hadn't asked about this either, but I was guessing Mrs. Mooney found some way to get the killer off my back. Maybe she bribed him...

Mum and Dad _wanted _Seville and I to forget so much, they were willing to resort to... whatever it was Mrs. Mooney did for a living. It was... it was disgusting. It hurt. A lot.

Not physically. No. I wish it _had _beenphysical pain, rather than the aching, gaping hole that had just gotten shot clean through my heart...

I heard another door slam shut in the distance again, and I speed walked the rest of the way back into the shop, where - once I opened the door and stepped in - leaned against the inside of it and breathed heavily, closing my eyes just briefly to officially take everything I just learned in.

"Val?" Seville's voice came from inside the parlor.

I rushed for the threshold, and we met halfway in the small hall.

"Where's Mum?" I asked quietly, my voice toned down.

"Still sleeping," He answered, looking confused. "Why?"

"I..." I twirled a piece of my hair through my fingers, swallowing; would he even believe me? "I have something to tell you, Sev. It's important... well, actually, it's majorly important."

"Shoot," He muttered as he brushed past me to go sit down by the booth. "Nothing you can say can surprise me anymore."

"Ooh..." I cringed, slowly turning on my heel to face him again. "I... bet I could prove you wrong."

"What is it, Val?" He sat down, his steady, hazel eyes pinned on me.

"Uh... you-you know that woman across the street? Mrs.-"

"Mooney," Seville finished for me, nodding his head. "Cresenta Mooney. Y'know... her name almost slipped my mind. Something sorta just clicked. Isn't it strange?"

"Strange, indeed," I felt guilt churning my stomach in a nearly violent manner. "Well... Geoffrey found me on the street today-"

"What?" Seville sat upright, eyes round. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I insisted, frowning. "But at that same moment, I fainted. Like-like when I left the bathroom back home after I took a shower. Remember?"

Seville suddenly looked far more intent on the situation. "Did you... see anything?"

_Oh, I sure did._

After thinking about it for a moment, I followed my inner, honest reply for once and nodded my head yes. I _wanted_ to be honest. I just didn't feel like getting deep into what I saw.

It didn't involve the point I wanted to make.

"But look, Sev, the dream - it-it doesn't matter," I stepped ever closer to him from across the room. "When I woke back up, I was in Mrs. Mooney's house. She told me..."

Seville could tell something was wrong now. His mouth was hung open just slightly, as though he wanted to say something but didn't even know the situation yet.

Finally, I spoke without prompt from him. "She told me that our memories had been erased from our heads."

Seville stared at me.

A few seconds passed, and he rose an eyebrow. "Val, you know I lost all interest in playtime and jokes when we left home."

"Wh-_what?" _My hands found their way back to my hips all too quickly. "You think I'm joking around?"

His reaction wasn't that much of a shock to me, really.

Seville just continued to cast me a stern glare, not speaking.

"Don't you ever even _begin _to wonder why Mr. Todd _scares _you so much? You don't remember getting pinned to the wall with a bloody razor blade to your neck?"

"No," Seville brushed off the idea like a piece of lint. "And I'm sure you don't either."

"Seville," I was finally right in front of the table, and I was leaning against it to talk closer to my brother's face. "Cresenta Mooney works with memories and... whatever sort of dark magic - like.. I don't even _know_ everything," I pinched the bridge of my nose, shutting my eyes once again as a striking feel of pain ripped through my head. "You've got to believe me, Sev. She... she left the fear, pain, and resentment in you. She took out everything else besides the appropriate knowledge of your normal life. You can't remember a thing, but you've _got _to take my word for it. If not me, try Mr. Todd upstairs. He knows too!"

Wait... that didn't sound right...

No. Mr. Todd _didn't _know.

He was just as confused as I was that Seville couldn't remember anything...

"Val? Sev?"

I turned, and was faced with Grandma.

She was staring at us from across the room, her eyes having a frightened look about them.

I flipped around and strode up to her. "Did you hear us talking?"

"Yes, I did," She confirmed, sidestepping me immediately and heading towards the side door.

"Well, is it true?"

"Is what true, love?" She opened the door and closed it behind her, making a quick turn to the stairs without looking back at us.

I glanced at Seville. "C'mon, Sev. Mr. Todd's the least of our problems right now."

Hesitantly, Seville rose from his seat and followed me out the door, still looking as confused as could be.

The barbershop door above us slammed, but we continued to press on up the stairs. I silently motioned for Seville to crouch down beside me once we reached the top, and we quietly listened to what was going on inside, the cold, gray atmosphere around us no longer serving as much of a distraction.

"Elle," Sweeney greeted Grandma casually, evidently not noticing her odd behavior yet. "What brings you up here, lass?"

_"'Lass'?"_ Seville muttered.

I exchanged a weird expression with him, but didn't say anything; why would Sweeney call _her _lass? Technically, she was much older than him.

"Can't an old girl like meself visit 'er best mate every now an' again for no purpose whatsoever?" Grandma was forcing a calm tone, when she was quite plainly panicking in every sense of the word.

Sweeney snorted bitterly. "You're not old. I am."

"Well," Grandma sounded glum. "What've yeh got to stop yeh from... stayin' the same, dear?"

"Drop it," Mr. Todd brushed off the topic with a steady aura, but I could tell he was a close notch away from faltering.

Unlike what I would've done, Grandma did as he said and fell silent.

A few seconds passed with no talking, or even movement, seemingly. Then we heard footsteps nearing the door, and Sweeney opened it to peer down at our stooped frames immediately, as if he knew we had been there the whole time. Seville fell backwards, frightened at the barber's sudden appearance. But Sweeney caught him by the front of his shirt collar and uprighted him, then dragged him into the shop. He did the same to me.

When he let go of me, he turned his back on us to face Grandma again and sigh, annoyance apparent on his face. "Is... is this place a bloody soup kitchen? Do any of you have anywhere else to go besides _here_?"

I shrugged. "No. Not really."

Seville's shrug was a little more hesitant, as though he didn't really even know why he followed me in the first place.

Grandma didn't reply. She just glared over Mr. Todd's shoulder at us, as if daring us to speak up.

I obliged and brushed past Seville, then Sweeney, to face Grandma clearly. "Why're you running away? What's the problem?"

"What're you talking about?" Sweeney asked gruffly, glaring down at my face.

"Ugh," I slapped my hand over my forehead as a rake of pain clawed through it. "So you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"What _she's _obviously been keeping from you!" I snapped, then turned back to Grandma. "You heard us! Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Sweeney demanded, looking alarmed; there were no more secrets concerning him. He evidently couldn't think of anymore that could be kept from us.

"I don't deny," Grandma muttered, her voice low and broken. "It was what your parents wanted - not what I wanted. An' I ain't pointin' fingers, but... your mother wanted it _much _more than your father did."

"Wait... wait a second," Seville narrowed his eyes at her. "You're telling me that everything Val just said downstairs was _true? _It-it's possible to actually _erase _someone's memory?"

"_An' _keep it in a vile. 'Course it is." Grandma crossed her arms. "M'sorry it 'ad to be like that, Val, Sev," she nodded to us, a rueful look on her face. "If yeh 'ave a bone to pick with someone, go downstairs an' pick it with your mother. I ain't to blame for this."

With narrowed eyes directed her way, I backed off for the door, until I felt Sweeney rest a hand on my shoulder - the same one that held an unsheathed razor inches above the fabric of my blouse. I stood still so the blade wouldn't get any closer than it already was to me, eyes far more rounded now.

"Elle," He murmured, something unfamiliar flashing behind his eyes. "Is there something I should know?"

Grandma froze to the sound of his voice, and she suddenly didn't look like my grandmother anymore. She looked rather much like the peculiar girl who appeared to be in her late teens - the one in my dream that Sweeney had yelled at to leave his shop.

_"...Get out. _Now. _Don't ask if I care whether you come back, because I don't. I don't care if I never see you again. Just leave me."_

His voice played back again in my mind, along with the girl's short, downcast reply,

_"Yes, sir..."_

Sweeney gripped the razor ever tighter, and the blade inched ever closer to myself. "Elle..."

"Y'know 'ow... 'ow Seville doesn't... r-remember anything 'bout you... assaultin' 'im?" Grandma began in a delicate tone. "Benny, Amri, an'... an' myself might've 'ad somethin' to do with that..."  
>Seville himself was staring off into space, completely dumbstruck by this new piece of information. He staggered over to Sweeney's chair and sat, gawking at the wall on the other side of the shop, where the cracked mirror resided.<p>

I stood off to the side and watched the next few things play out in respectable silence.

"You..." Sweeney's hand slipped off me as I gently moved away, and his arm dropped to his side like dead weight. "...y-you _lied _to me?"

"Wha' d'yeh call _lyin'_, love?" Grandma prompted, gazing at him. Her words were deadly quiet.

"Every bloody time the boy came into one of our discussions!" Sweeney growled, passing the razor blade from his right hand to his left, and then quickly pacing toward her. "_That _is what I call _lying_!"

"What could I 'ave told yeh?" Grandma shot back, not looking at all fazed when he practically charged at her and stopped when there was only a close few inches between them. "That yeh 'aven't changed for the better one damn _bit_ since I found yeh in that stinkin' bake'ouse? That you've never lost your bloody touch when it comes to being downright 'orrifying?" She jerked her head in Seville's direction. "The lad would be livin' in fear for the rest of 'is life, all 'cause 'o you!"

At that last statement, Sweeney snapped his mouth shut very briefly, though his glare didn't vanish.

Unable to hold it back, I spoke up in a very quiet tone of voice, not really looking to join the argument. "Um... Mrs. Mooney said she left the fear and resentment... inside of him. She never took that away."

It still felt weird to talk like this.

"So 'e'd never return," Grandma finished, giving a crisp nod. "It's legitimate, Val."

Sweeney frowned when she said this. He still didn't speak.

Seville didn't appear very willing to offer any verbal support, either.

When Grandma looked at Mr. Todd again, her face softened. Her hand closed the space between them as she rapped her fingers around his wrist, lifting it to view the new scar on the palm of his hand. She sighed, her breath oddly shaky in sound.

"M'sorry... sir," Her eyes flew up to meet his, a look of reverence crossing her features. "For everything."

Sweeney's breathing seemed to have caught in his throat when she called him "sir", a name in which she obviously hadn't addressed him with in a very long time. Years.

To compose himself, he shook the shocked look away and wrenched his wrist free of her grasp. "Get out."

He didn't have to say it twice.

Grandma grabbed my hand in her own and ushered Seville from the chair, then pushed us both for the door. She rushed us out first. Just as she was closing the door behind us, Sweeney cleared his throat to get her attention again. She looked over her shoulder, a somewhat hopeful sort of gleam in her eyes.

It slowly died when she heard of what Sweeney had to say next.

"You Lovett's are all the same, you know - I don't say this lightly," Mr. Todd was holding the razor low, and with both hands. "You lie, and then you _die_." His eyes didn't exactly show the same confidence his voice did; while his voice was dark and growly, his eyes were glazed over with hurt shone in them.

Regardless, the statement made Grandma flinch, nearly to the point of hunkering down. Seville's eyes stretched wide. My jaw fell agape.

Without another word, Grandma turned her head away from us swiftly, and she hurried down the stairs as though her life depended on it.

I think she was looking to hide the tears.

Seville exchanged an uneasy look with me, but he ended up more slowly following Grandma down. I stayed in the doorway to the barbershop, frozen to the spot. A cold chill in the wind swiped past me, making me shiver a little.

"Mr. Todd..." I rapped my arms around myself to veer the cold away from my frame. "Wh-why would you _say_ that?"

I felt so... small, suddenly.

Sweeney had been cradling the razor blade a little higher since Grandma left. His head lifted with an unexpectant look on his face, as though he hadn't realized I was still standing there.

He frowned, looking oddly displeased with my question despite how sure he sounded of himself moments ago. "Valerie,"

I nodded in acknowledgement, not caring that my eyes were visibly beginning to well up with tears of my own.

"Am I... really as frightening as she says I am?"

As I squinted, I noticed a pure gleam of grief not being hesitant to show itself in his sable colored gaze. His chest was tightening up as he waited for an answer.

I looked the other way briefly to wipe at my eyes. When I faced him again, I honestly could not find the right words to reassure him.

Because I suddenly didn't want to.

Not at all.

Just as a tear finally streaked down my cheek, I turned away to head down the stairs, cringing when I heard the door slam behind me.

The barber went right back to his brooding.

I reached the bottom of the stairs. Right when I was preparing to slink back through the side door, Grandma's voice sounded a few feet away from me. I looked and found that she was sitting at a table within the courtyard, staring down at its surface.

"What're yeh gonna do then, dear?"

I was wondering if she had seen or heard any of the exchange between me and the barber.

"We need to leave," I stated quietly, turning on my heel to look at her straightforwardly. "Mum will be glad for it. I think Seville will too. Everything will go back to the way it was. Dad won't be there, but... everything will be better."

That's what I needed to keep saying to convince myself.

_Everything will be better. It'll always get better. It will, because it always does._

Grandma looked back at me. "An' what'll 'appen to the shop... once I'm gone?"

That caught my attention.

I tilted my head. "What?"

"If yeh won't succeed it-"

"I was meant to succeed the pie shop?" I asked, alarmed.

"Well, your father wouldn't do it. S'more womanly job, after all," She propped her elbows up on the table's surface and buried her forehead into both hands. "'Least... that's what your father said."

I was slowly edging my way towards her. "There's got to be more than just inheriting the shop. Right?"

She lifted her head yet again to peer up at my face. "An' 'ow did yeh guess that?"

I glanced up toward the barbershop door, a thoughtful look crossing my features. "It all just seemed too ominous... to not have to do with Sweeney, that is."

"Well, then you're right," Grandma breathed out the words in one, long exhale. "After I'm gone... someone needs to look out for Mr. Todd... take care of 'im."

"He seems to take care of himself just fine," I pointed out as I sat down on the bench beside her. "He's always griping about not having anymore time to himself. He'd _like_ not having anyone around."

"Hm," A small smile made the corners of her lips curl up, apparently taking amusement in what I had just said. "'E's a bloody good liar 'imself, that Mr. T. An' not even that... a better word that'd describe 'im would be "bullshit artist", in every sense of the phrase."

"What do you mean?" I tried to forget just how weird of a feeling it was to hear her swear.

"Ah," She waved it off. "I know that man better than I knew me own son. 'E's more 'elpless than yeh think. Way softer than 'e looks, too."

"I... started to guess about that a while ago," I admitted, feeling another slight string of sadness overtake me. "I-I honestly don't know why Mum never gave him a chance."

"'E went after 'er child. 'O course it'd be 'ard for 'er to forgive 'im."

"But you just said it yourself: he's not as cruel as he makes himself out to be. Mum must've seen it sooner or later."

Grandma lightly shook her head. "After what 'appened, your mother couldn't trust 'im anymore. 'Er bein' the naturally cautious type an' whatnot. No doubt it'd be 'ard for 'er to look 'im in the eye and not think anything bad of 'im."

I just faltered; I supposed she was right. I mean... _I _got pissed when Sweeney put his hands on Seville before. And what about just now? Mr. Todd practically just _wished death _upon us.

Grandma sure knew how to forgive and forget. I knew that much.

"Anyway..." My head went right back to its hanging state. "I can't stay here to... look after the shop."

"Why not?"

I stared at her, finding it equally weird to hear her argue. I waited a moment, and then the perfect answer came to me. "Because it'll tear the remaining scraps of my family apart."

I think that was a pretty feasible explanation.

Ignoring the winded look on her face, I got up from the bench and silently left back through the side door, shaking my head.

* * *

><p>Mum and Sev were sitting in the parlor, looking dazed. I padded around the sofa and sat down next to them, staring directly across the room at the fireplace that wasn't lit. By the way she moved, I could tell Mum was peering at my face.<p>

"Valerie, have you been crying?"

My heart missed a beat. I fruitlessly dabbed at my eyes a little, and shook my head no.

She reached out to brush a strand of my hair away from my face. "Why?"

"I haven't been crying, Mum," I strove to make my voice sound firm.

"Yes, you have," She countered, looking agitated. "What's wrong?"

I looked around the room through teary eyes, nodding just a slight. I sighed shakily. "This building. This building is what's wrong."

Mum rose an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

I could see Seville stiffen on Mum's other side. He knew what I was getting at immediately.

"Mum," I freely lifted a hand to wipe it across both closed eyelids, breathing with relief when I no longer felt tears coming as quick. "Have you ever heard rumors about this place? They aren't good."

"Like what?" She muttered, her expression showing nothing but suspicion.

"Well..." My eyes flicked up to the ceiling, swallowing down a lump in my throat; Sweeney wasn't pacing at the moment.

"A long time ago," Seville began, to my utter shock. "A barber used to live up there," He nodded to the ceiling, on which my gaze still rested. "His name was Benjamin Barker."

"Uh... and," I interjected, feeling the need to comment. "he may not've looked like much, but..." I don't know why I was saying it, really. But it felt true. "His heart was way stronger than he was, and it was in the right place..."

Despite himself, Seville gave a small nod of his head, agreeing with me. Then, together, we told Mum everything. _Everything. _

* * *

><p>Morning came a little too quickly. We got up and had a little something to eat before we got dressed and began packing to leave. Grandma was quiet the whole time, refusing to speak unless spoken to. I think we lifted Mum's worries a little, the day before. She didn't look as tense anymore, for one thing. The other thing being that, when Grandma beckoned Mr. Todd down to see us away from the shop, Mum didn't look at him with the same fear she used to.<p>

It was rather much curiosity.

I honestly can't make sense of how telling one the reason for why someone is so suspicious in such a way - in this case, because he used to kill people left and right - would ease anyone's mind. Especially if suspicions are confirmed true.

Then again, what did Mum expect?

"Well, Amri," Grandma was hesitant at first, but she rapped Mum up in a hug. "Goodbye. Best 'o luck with the baby, an'... if yeh can't come over, send us pictures, eh?"

Mum nodded, though she wasn't smiling. "We might just," Peering over Grandma's shoulder, her eyes caught onto Sweeney's shadowed ones, which were currently directed at the ground. She pulled away from Grandma to give him a curt nod, slight awkwardness for now knowing about his past apparent on her face. "Mr. Todd..."

"Amri," His head had been down, but by the sound of his name, he lifted it to meet Mum's eyes. "We'll perhaps... meet on another occasion?"

Was that _hope _in his voice?

"Yes," Mum slowly nodded. "Perhaps we will."

"Oh," Grandma walked over to me and gave me a hug, and afterwards did the same to Seville. "I'm so 'appy yeh came 'ere, loves. I just wish yeh could've stayed longer."

Seville didn't reply. Neither did I.

Unnerved by this, Grandma pulled away from my brother and eventually backed off, as if worried she had offended us in some way.

She didn't. Seville just thought the opposite of her words, while I could barely speak at the moment.

As if thinking twice, Grandma stepped forth to place her hands on either side of my shoulders and whisper, "Do come back, dear. It would be preferred that yeh come to claim your in'eritance before I'm..." Her words trailed off, and she gave me a sort of "you know" look to emphasize the point she couldn't make vocally.

I swallowed, but still didn't reply.

What was I supposed to say?

"Well," Grandma's voice took a brisk turn when she pulled away from me yet again. "Any other things we'd like to get out in the open 'fore you lot get goin' 'ome?"

Everyone fell silent - and if they had already been silent, they at least muted audible breath.

Sweeney was watching us by the fence with an unbreakable look of stoicalness, his hands clasped behind his back in what appeared to be an unecessesarily formal gesture. To show us straightforwardly and bluntly that he hadn't zoned out, he rose an eyebrow, looking as though he didn't expect much of a reply.

Just as Seville was opening his mouth with reluctance, a beep from down the road made us all turn. A police car, driven by Officer Rhenny, came driving down the street to stop abruptly in front of the shop.

That was our ride home.

Seville bit his lower lip. He turned his head to peer at Mr. Todd one last time and lamely backed off. Not wasting any time there on, he turned on his heel and opened the police car door, getting into the back.

I waited until I heard the door slam. I then looked across the way at Sweeney, frowning at him. Unable to do absolutely _nothing, _I dipped my head to him, then clutched my belongings closer to me as I came to open the police car door and sit down beside my brother. Out the tinted window, I could've sworn I saw him lightly returning the gesture.

Before long, Mum came to Officer Rhenny's side as she sat shotgun. The cop didn't even ask if we were officially ready. He just started driving.

For once, I didn't care. I'd be thinking the whole way home. Thinking about everything that happened over the past few days.

_Dad's dead._

_Mum's pregnant again._

_Meeting the infamous Demon Barber isn't all its cracked up to be, in many different ways._

_Getting your memory erased without even knowing is complete crap in every sense of the word._

_And Mrs. Mooney..._

Mrs. Mooney!

"Stop the car!" I ordered, sitting upright in my seat.

Seville jumped, surprised at my sudden outburst.

"What?" Rhenny looked back at me, alarmed. "Why?"

"Just do it!" I snapped.

Looking mightily annoyed that he was actually listening to me, the officer pulled over, an inquiring look on his face.

"Valerie," Mum looked over her armrest at me, stern. "What's all this about?"

Refusing to respond, I opened up my door and leaned my head out, peering down the short distance in which we had driven.

The distance wasn't very far at all.

Sweeney wasn't standing out there anymore, but Grandma was.

"Grandma!" I called, waving her down.

Her eyes stretched wide at the returning sight of me. Lifting her skirts up a little past her ankles, she hurried down the cobblestones toward the car. She leaned in to look at me, puzzled. "Wha' tis it, love?"

I toned my voice down, confused about the notion myself. "When I was talking to Mrs. Mooney yesterday... she told me something... something to tell you, apparently, and in the _exact _words she uttered."

"Well," Grandma prompted. "Get on with it then."

"Something about... a brew almost being ready...? That's what she said. "The _brew's _almost ready."" I tilted my head at her. "Does that... mean anything to you?"

Grandma stared at me for several eerie heartbeats, her eyes gradually growing to twice their size. Without a word, she reached forward and hugged me really tightly. _Really _tightly.

"G-Grandma?" I choked, confuddled.

"Sorry, deary," She smiled and backed out of the car. "S'nothin'," Her expression said otherwise. "Really. Jus'... continue," She directed this releasing order to Rhenny, and he immediately pressed down on the gas pedal.

I caught the last remaining sight of Grandma - as well as the faint, barely noticable gleam of a tear in her eye - as we drove off and away from Fleet Street.

I leaned with my elbow propped up by the window, continuing to think.

Maybe I was just a _little _more confused than before...

_I never got to say goodbye to Derek._

_And that inheritance thing? It involves looking after the pie shop, as well as keeping Mr. Todd company. But won't he die eventually, too? He has so many years behind him already, way more than a hundred. And is that even what I want to do in life? Sit all alone in an old pie shop on an old street, socializing with practically no one else but a cranky barber upstairs who used to kill people for a living?_

As I thought this, I immediately felt guilty.

Mr. Todd was much, _much_ more than that.

_How did Grandma find him anyway?_ That was one question I never asked, but should've. As well as how he remained so young looking; Grandma met him when she was _nineteen. _I saw it in my dream, and Mr. Todd looked exactly the same then as he did now.

They may have just been dreams. Call me crazy for relying on the details of mental images, but I've come to trust them.

Putting that aside, I still had many questions left unanswered. Five minutes since leaving Fleet Street, and I already wanted to go back.

Maybe I was just a hopeless horror fanatic.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Well, I hinted pretty straightforwardly about the meaning of the story's title in this chapter. It hasn't come to a complete end yet though, don't you worry! There are still quite a few chapters left to go before this is over. And... when this story is over, it might not <strong>_**be _completely over_ _yet _then_, either..._**

**_coughamihintingatasequel?cough_**

**_^^ So yes. It MIGHT be a definite promise. Not sure. I'm terrible at planning out stories. But I have a few ideas to write down yet!_**

**_"Putting that aside", as stated at the end of this chapter... please review. :)_**


	32. We Meet Again

**_Chapter 32_**

"Here we are, Mrs. Lovett,"

We pulled up in front of the house. Our house. And it looked... almost _too _much like how we left it. Nothing had changed. The grass surrounding it didn't even appear to have grown, and there was hardly anything in our mailbox.

As Seville and I got out of the car, I overheard Officer Rhenny muttering something to Mum. It sounded like, "Watch out for those two."

I snorted and picked up the pace down the driveway and up the stairs. Mum joined us soon after we reached the top, and while she was turning the key to unlock the door, I was overlooking the street with a clear head.

Morning fog appeared to have shrouded the streets for a short period of time, but it was just now clearing up by the looks of it. The street itself was dead still. No kids were out yet, because none of them were awake yet.

As Mum and Seville went in, I hesitantly followed, feeling a rush of homesickness that just got demolished in a swift, split second.

It felt good, believe it or not.

Maybe things wouldn't turn out so bad after all...

Mum felt around for the light switch. I was honestly expecting everything in the rooms to be scattered or broken, considering the cops had poked around. But on the contrary, it, too, was just as we had left it.

It was almost as though we never left in the first place.

Morning light was already beaming in through the windows, and added to the artificial light from the bulb on the ceiling fan, the whole house was lit up pretty well.

"Valerie? Seville?" Mum was standing in the threshold to the kitchen, simply poking her head in to make sure everything was okay. When she turned back to us and met us halfway, we knew it was all fine.

"Can we talk?"

I didn't respond verbally. I just nodded. Seville copied.

"C'mon," Mum led us into the kitchen, where we sat at the table. "Do you guys want anything?" she asked while she was still up.

I looked up at her, frowning. "I'd rather talk first."

Seville showed no signs of agreeing with me, though I knew he felt the same exact way.

What we needed was a long talk to perhaps straighten things out a bit.

Nodding in understanding, Mum sat down opposite us and peered at us across the table. Her face was so sober, I nearly felt sorry for her.

"Alright..." She breathed. "Now, I'll be having a baby in a few months. You two are going to be heading back to school a little later than all the other kids."

"How much later?" Seville prompted.

Mum sighed. "I'll be giving your grandmother a few calls... as well as Mr. Turpin from the bookstore. This problem with Geoffrey needs to be solved before you two can freely leave the house..." There was a tinge of irritation in her voice as she added, "Not that.. you didn't already freely leave the shop when you were with your grandma, but..."

I felt an ill-humored laugh coming on. "Grandma and Mr. Todd weren't strict on us at all... safety wise, anyway."

"Yes," Mum narrowed her eyes at me. "That's a small part of why I wanted you two away from there."

An awkward silence fell over the table.

Then Mum touched up on the most equally awkward topic possible, "And... about Mrs. Mooney, well..." I had a slight change of heart when Mum went on. "I know it's all so absurd, and sudden, but... I cannot tell you how sorry I am. I want you to know that I do not regret my decision to do what I did. I never expected you two to find out, and I state that with all honesty. It's... it's not sincere. This isn't a sincere apology, because I can't find a way to make it sound that way," She faltered and exhaled, as though she had forced that all out in one breath. "I'm just very, _very_ sorry."

Seville and I exchanged a glance, nodding in a silent agreement.

I looked back to Mum, smiling a little. "It's okay, Mum. We forgive you..." I looked down at my hands that were resting atop the table's surface. "I... thought Mr. Todd was great for a while. Then he... didn't turn out as good as I imagined he might."

Mum tilted her head. "How so? I thought you two were the ones who told me the story of why he became so..."

"Cold?" Seville guessed.

"Austere?" I added, raising an eyebrow.

"Grave?"

"Brusque?"

"Yes, yes," Mum rested the back of her hand to her forehead. "_All_ of those things. And, Valerie," She looked at me. "Your grandmother mentioned you... perhaps started taking a shine to Mr. Todd."

I looked down, now refusing completely to meet her gaze.

Mum sighed. "I'm sorry then, dear. You may not have known this, but Mr. Todd served as an older brother to your father for a while. They were close, and your father considered him one of the family, just as your grandma di-_does_." She nearly messed up on that statement; there was no doubt Grandma was still treating Sweeney like he was related to her. Right as we spoke, even.

That was... unless the barber waited for us to leave before making do with killing her for lying to him...

No. He... he wouldn't do that.

As I was starting to get worried about this, Mum continued with her speech. "I didn't feel the same way your father did, about Mr. Todd. I thought he was dangerous. But now I realize that... there _might _have been a tiny misunderstanding."

"But, Mum," I rose both eyebrows in a disbelieving gesture. "He _is_ - _was _dangerous. We tell you he slit the throats of innocent men, and you suddenly understand and accept why he became the way he is?"

"Well," She eyed me wearily. "what happened to him isn't his fault, now is it? And you said it yourself: the throat slitting part wasn't the entire story."

That shut me up.

Of course it wasn't his fault, and of course the part about him cutting necks wasn't the whole point.

Was Mum starting to think the same way I was about this big, giant mess of a few weeks?

"In any case," Mum went on reluctantly, noticing just how visibly saddened I looked. "We need to get on with our lives. Our regular lives."

"What about Geoffrey in the time being?" Seville asked cautiously. "Does he know where we live?"

"Luckily, he doesn't," Mum stated. "He hates us with every fibre of his being, but not enough at our time in quarrel to track down where we live."

"Well, good," I was aware of just how disinterested I sounded as I got up from my seat and sauntered over to the threshold. "I'll... be up in my room for a little while. Gonna go unpack."

I could practically feel Mum's eyes looking after me with faint regret. Seville had not yet made a move to copy my actions; he probably didn't want Mum to think we both held a grudge against her and therefore didn't feel like being anywhere near her.

This didn't stop me as I made my way down the hall, around the corner, and up the stairs. I turned to the left when I reached the top and entered my room, which I crossed to place the few bags I brought with me on my bed. Sunlight was filtering in through the window, streaking the bed mattress and carpeted floor with bars of shifting light from the swaying trees outside. Only when I sat down on my bed did I vaguely begin to wish Derek had owned a cell phone, so I could call him and explain the situation.

Talking to him in general was greatly needed right then and there. Thinking about it made me wonder if I'd've ever told him that he was right about Sweeney Todd, and that his friend Casey's theory about the Demon Barber still being alive was dead on correct.

In all honesty, his mind would've been blown. I think Casey's would've been too.

But Sweeney was right: everyone was making an unnecessarily big fuss about what took place all those years ago. True, it was awful, and by the sound of it, it _certainly _showed no justice. The only justice was that Judge Turpin had gotten what for for doing what he did, and at the hands of Mr. Todd, no less.

And last, but not least, it was tragic. Sweeney never asked for sympathy, but he needed it more than anyone I'd ever known.

I think - taking his stubborn attitude into consideration - that he simply fell into the poor groove of drying his own tears and biting back pain with piercing glares and scathing words. Empty threats, quite plainly.

He could promise to slowly and surely slice my throat open with the sharp silver of a razor blade. He could promise. But he'd never do it. _Ever._

Or maybe I was starting to underestimate _him_ too...

Heaving a sigh, I stood up from the bed and headed over to the window to pull it open, inhaling a breath of fresh, morning air. The atmosphere outside was peaceful and quiet, and at the end of the block, I could see the first few figures of different people walking past, as well as one or two kids riding by on their bikes, most likely savoring the last few days of freedom they had left before school started.

I pulled my beanbag closer to the window until it was pressed against the wall, then settled down on it to peer out at the street, briefly closing my eyes to let the outdoor breeze gently blow past my face.

An hour passed before I realized I hadn't even unpacked yet. So - rising from my place by the window - I walked over to my bags atop the bed and began dumping them out. I put everything within each one back into its rightful spot and place.

It didn't take me as long as I thought it would. That's because not that many thoughts were running through my mind at that moment, nor were there any distractions in the room. My head was too numb to think, so I moved instead.

It certainly helped when I hadn't a clue what to do.

Was that why Sweeney paced so much? Could it have possibly been that, underneath all the stress of his troubling thoughts, the thoughts were no longer good for him, and he'd therefore resort to be in constant motion to at least do _something_?

I knew he wasn't _always_ in constant motion, of course. Though the notion still sounded pretty legit to me.

When I was finished, I leaned against the closed door to my room and looked around, still drinking in the sight of it; With everything back to the way it used to be and look, I could've woken up the next morning and completely forgot about my visit to Fleet Street, and everything else that I now mark as signifigant.

But I didn't.

I didn't know when I would, but I knew for a fact that it wouldn't be any time soon.

* * *

><p>Weeks went on, and weeks slowly progressed into... a month or two. I really wasn't sure.<p>

I know the fast-forwards are a tad uncalled for. But believe me: it's nothing you'd be interested in.

Over time, Mum's stomach got rounder with the definite promise of a baby; there was no denying it now, no matter how many wise cracking jokes Seville and I would make when Mum wasn't around to hear them.

I wasn't quite sure where my brother and I stood when it came to this new baby. Surely, and without a doubt, Mum would look after him or her with the same care she put forth to look after me and Seville.

As to whether or not we'd treat our new, younger sibling fairly was up for debate.

I hardly knew enough about the world. Now I was supposed to introduce an even bigger amateur to this tricky, overall dangerous place?

The more I thought about it, the more frustrated I became. It was the "Anger" stage, I suppose you could say. Like that one skit in _Robot Chicken _where the giraffe got stuck in the quicksand.

If you... uh... get my drift.

This anger only grew on one day in particular, in which Mum caught me as I was walking in from outside to unsuccessfully climb the stairs; I stopped at the base to the sound of my name being called.

I didn't feel like talking to her, let alone _looking_ at her. Not one bit.

But in any case, I turned on my heel to face her, knowing there'd be no arguing.

"Yeah?"

She was sitting on the sofa in the parlor, peering across the way at me with thoughtfulness in her eyes. "Come take a seat, Valerie."

"Why?" I edged toward her, suspicious. "What's wrong?"

Mum rolled her eyes good naturedly. "There's nothing wrong, Val. I just want to talk to you."

"About?" I sat down beside her anyway, not quite thinking anymore.

"About the baby," She responded evenly.

I sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that."

"What's so bad about having a little sibling? Tell me." Mum prompted, looking miffed.

"If you'd've told me and Sev as soon as you found out, I wouldn't be as difficult about it," I explained irritably. "Y'know... I'd have a _little_ more time to actually mull over it for a few days."

It was Mum's turn to sigh. "I know, Val, and I regret not telling you. Your father and I needed to leave on such short notice, and I planned on telling you and Seville when we got back," She tilted her head forward, frowning. "We... never _did _get back though. I knew I'd eventually be telling you guys regardless, no matter what happened."

I crossed my arms and leaned back. I didn't dread the conversation that'd ensue, more so as I was weary of it. "So... why did you call me over here?"

I never should've asked.

"Well," Mum's eyes glazed over, as though she didn't exactly want to look at my face anymore when she spoke. "This incoming baby - it can't be nameless, can it?"

_That _was her way of breaking her reasoning to me gently?

"You want me to brainstorm _names _with you?" I scoffed, half angry and half incredulous at the notion. "Can't we worry about that once you actually _have _the baby? And... and we know it isn't dead by the time it leaves your womb?" I said that last part in a much quieter tone.

Mum didn't hear, obviously, because she pressed on instead of scolding me for the crudeness (but it was the truth, wasn't it? the baby might've been damaged from Geoffrey attacking Mum. who knew how he or she would be, mentally-wise, just as well as health-wise, when they'd be born?). "I had a few names in mind already, actually."

"Oh, yeah?" I looked up from my lap, raising a brow. "And what are they?"

"For a boy, I was thinking, maybe, Thomas, or... Randall," She looked deeply satisfied with the thought, while all I could observe was that she had never looked so juvenile in all my time of knowing her.

I barely blinked. "And for a girl?"

"Madeline," She stated immediately, a small smile touching her lips. "Definitely Madeline."

* * *

><p>Despite summer break being over and done with two months ago, the heat was still surprisingly there. It wasn't too extreme, though a slight sweat was starting on my forehead as I walked down the street.<p>

I wasn't thinking straight. Because it was Sunday.

All kids were out having fun outside (inside too, though the number wasn't many) on weekends. Namely at the park. Where I was headed.

I had asked Seville if he wanted to come with me, but he seemed to be the only one of us that found sense in staying home. He must've known trouble would arise from the results of my visit.

And he was right.

I crossed the street when the distant park came into sight, and ignored the faces of the public as I strode past each one. When I finally came to stand by the open gates, I peered in with caution.

Just what I feared: Dakota was in there, standing near the playground with a group of her friends with her.

She was a tall, well-muscled girl, but still quite pretty, as much as I hated to admit it. She wore her long, blonde hair back in a ponytail, and had on a plain white t-shirt and shorts. She had piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you, though at the moment, they were lit with laughter as she conversed with her close friends.

What did it take to become a "close friend" in her eyes? What did _she _consider a friend, anyway?

Shaking my head to clear that sudden thought, I let my hands slide off the gate as I quietly padded in and off the concrete path to stray out to the open space of grass.

They probably wouldn't even notice me.

..._Boy_, was I out of it!

I sat down underneath the nearest tree - while still trying to stay out of sight - and watched the group of no nonsense girls talk about what they usually talked about: how shitty their lives were. How much they hated their parents. How much they wanted to leave the city and go somewhere far away.

_Why? _was the only thing I could wonder in response to each of those.

What was so bad about life, really? The world might've been cruel, but that didn't particulary mean your life always was...

"Hey, Valerie,"

A familiar voice mixed in with the regular chirping of birds behind me made me jump, and I swung my head around toward the fence that enclosed the park.

It was... _Derek?_

My mouth was hung open, but no words were coming out.

He was leaning over the fence, looking confused.

"How... how did you find me?" I demanded, when I finally found my voice.

"I just scoped around a bit," He replied, looking quite proud with himself as he came around to the opened gate and entered the park. "Wasn't too hard; Dad drived."

When I had called out to him (he _was _several feet away), I hadn't realized my voice had raised to a noticably high level.

Because no sooner had Derek and I spoke did Dakota's head swivel around in our direction. As soon as she saw me, a smirk crossed her features, and she automatically began leading her friends over to me.

Derek reached me before she did, however. He sat down next to me, looking expectant. "So what happened to you?"

Keeping eyes on Dakota's approaching figure at all times, I spoke with hesitance. "I... needed to leave. On short notice." Those words came from Mum just yesterday. They probably just came to me because it was the first answer that shot into my head, even if it was the honest truth.

Derek was staring at me, concerned. "Are you okay?"

Ignoring him, I looked straight on at Dakota, who was only now standing a few feet away. Derek soon followed my gaze.

"Oh," He looked up at the tall group of girls - much taller because they were standing and we were sitting - and smiled in greeting, not seeming to notice their visible intent to hurt me. "Hello."

Dakota narrowed her eyes at him distastefully, then placed her hands on her hips as her eyes focused on me. "Going to a different school this year, are you, Val?"

Not feeling very threatened, I remained sitting and stared up at her, blinking every so often. It took at least half a minute before I replied. "No. I'll be attending the same school this year. Why do you ask?"

Dakota exchanged a partially bewildered look with her friends. She snapped her head back down to me when she had a reply. "Well, I don't know if you've noticed, Lovett, but we're already two months in."

"Poor you," I said evenly, a slight smile on my face. "How's the homework? Hard?"

"What's going on, Valerie?"

"Do you miss me at school? No one to beat up on anymore?"

"Trust me," Dakota sneered. "I can beat the shit out of anyone I want. But I don't want just _anyone. _I want _you_, oddball ginger."

"How sweet," I commented, smirking when I saw Derek wear a new sort of smile in the corners of my eyes; he was obviously starting to catch on. "Is it strange that, in our time apart, I've wanted you _so _badly too? It's like we're _made_ for one another!"

A heard a few unsuccessfully suppressed chuckles from behind Dakota. Her friends obviously thought I was being funnier than usual.

Scowling at this, Dakota decided to nit-pick something else. "And who's this?" She motioned to Derek with a effortless wave of her hand. "I thought you only made imaginary friends, Vally."

"No, actually, believe it or not, he's not imaginary," I finally turned my head to a full to look at Derek straight on. "I met him during summer break, but... that's not important," I didn't want them to start bashing him; he wasn't used to that. At least... I didn't _think_ he was. "The family's having some issues at the moment. I'm gonna be back to school in no time at all. _Then_ we'll settle whatever score you have in mind."

Dakota gave a slow nod, looking surprisingly pleased with where I was going.

Who said we could never agree on anything?

Without another word, they all walked off, leaving Derek and I to sit in silence under the tree.

Sunlight poked through the leaves, leaving a pattern of shadows rippling across the grass around us.

After a few heartbeats, Derek spoke in a teasing tone of voice. "Friends of yours?"

"Shut up," I covered my face in my hands, shaking my head all the while. "I hate all of them."

"Sorry if I came at the wrong time," Derek muttered, his voice switching quick from smug to guilty. "I was just... confused. You left without saying anything at all."

"I'm sorry," I put forth. "But I wasn't given much time to leave Fleet Street with a grand exit."

"Why not?" He asked curiously.

My breath got caught up in my throat. "Uh... f-family business. Just like I told Dakota. _Private _family business. Nothing that concerns you."

Derek's mouth snapped shut, as though I had just turned down a question of his without knowing it right before he said it. "Oh..."

I peered through overhanging strands of hair at him, frowning. "So, how did you know I really left?"

"I went to your grandma's," Derek replied. "I... even went up to the barbershop; you seemed like you visited up there a lot."

I felt a smile pulling my lips up. "And how was Mr. Todd?"

Derek appeared to be thinking for a moment before replying. "Well, he looked sorta pissed that I was there. Does he always look like that?"

I felt every muscle untense at that answer.

I didn't like it when the barber was angry. But in all honesty, I'd hate to know he was completely miserable. Not unless I was there to cheer him up.

Sweeney Todd with a raging attitude was even more natural than a pure blue sky.

"Oh yeah, Derek," I leaned my back against the tree trunk and heaved a sigh, expressionless. "Don't let it faze you; that's just the way he is."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Vally. Lol.<em>**

**_Don't you dare suspect _anything _of Sweeney Todd. He's unpredictable, Val. You can't just "know" him. He and Elle are probably sitting in the pie shop playing "I Never" with a couple shot glasses of gin, right after they had an illegal pizza party in the barbershop (erm... that's an inside joke - illegal pizza party - between me and _my _family. uh... you wouldn't get it. XD)._**

**_I think I'm absolute crap at trying to be funny. I really am._**

**_But please, review regardless. c:_**


	33. It Took Him Long Enough

_**Chapter 33**_

October.

No, I didn't think Geoffrey would pop out at me with the Scream mask on, or... any of that. The day Seville jokingly mentioned that, I laughed. But as I thought about it more and more, the idea started to sound... awfully horrifying.

We hadn't gone back to school yet. Mum had been on the phone with Grandma several times a day, and for many hours. It was truly getting to the point where I didn't blame her.

I mean... I wanted to live.

On Fleet Street, Geoffrey knew where we were, but we had Sweeney. And I don't need to say any further what _he _was capable of doing.

Here, at home, Geoffrey didn't know where we were. But we had no protection at all.

Over the weeks spent home, I made a point to hang out with Derek when I got the chance. Eventually, Casey joined our outings as a regular thing.

I learned a few more things about him too, like how his last name was Williams, and that, when his mother got pregnant with him, his father walked out on them.

That... wasn't too great of a thing, of course.

Casey didn't seem to care though, considering he never met his father in that case. If he _did_ care, he obviously didn't let us in on that fact.

Still rather unfortunate, if you ask me.

* * *

><p>"<em>So<em>, Val," Derek leaned back in the padded booth next to the window within the diner - the one Seville and I had gone to weeks before. He looked up at me, a sudden look of seriousness crossing his features. "Are you... planning on staying here?"

I looked up from the fry I had just dipped in ketchup to stare at him suspiciously, ignoring the fact that he had called me by my nickname for once again that day. "What kind of question is that?"

"A cautious one, doubtlessly," Casey chimed in, his one hand clamped tightly around his cheeseburger to keep from dropping it. "Derek's obviously spotted signs of the paranormal."

"No, I haven't," Derek countered, looking nervous again. "I'm just asking her a simple question abou-"

"Why would you?" I interrupted him. "Of course I'm staying here, in my own house. I can't go back to Fleet Street."

"Well," Derek looked rather sulky when he glanced down at the table cloth again. "it's not like you ever told us why..."

"'Us'?" I repeated, scoffing. "What special place does Casey hold in _my_ heart?"

"Uh... right here." Casey was sitting right next to me, in fact, while Derek was sitting alone across from us.

"Sorry, Case." I muttered, lightly rolling my eyes.

"What special place do _I _hold in your heart?" Derek retorted. He looked oddly curious, despite his tone.

"I never told you any secrets, did I?" I stuck my nose up in the air, refusing to meet his eyes. "Neither one of you know anything about me that the other doesn't. I assure you."

"Good," Derek took a small side glance at Casey. "The last thing I need to hear is that my best friend is going behind my back to win the aff-_friendship_ of a girl."

I was able to tell immediately that he was about to say "affections" rather than friendship.

What was he playing at, exactly?

"Dude," Casey looked humored at how sour Derek was being. "Shut up and eat your fries."

And we did. No more talking.

I really thought going to a public place with friends would take me away from my problems for a while. But my problems were screwing with my social life too.

I knew this had to stop.

"So," Despite his previous order (which was probably only said to keep Derek and I from arguing), Casey went onto a completely different subject. "What're you two doing for Halloween?"

_I... can't leave the house for too long either, Casey._

I'd normally go trick-or-treating. Was I getting too old for that? I didn't _feel _too old for it yet.

"Valerie?" Derek's voice cut into my thoughts. "Did you hear me?"

I looked straight up at him. "Uh... no."

"They're having a Halloween party at our school," He looked away. "I mean... if you don't have any plans..."

Huh. A Halloween party? That sounded like something Seville would go to, because, believe it or not, he actually had a bigger social life than I did.

"I'll have to check up with my Mum about that." I finally said, knowing full well just how visibly expressed my hesitance was.

"If she has a problem with the other kids there, the three of us can just stand by the outer auditorium doors with all the cigarette smoke and compliment on each other's costumes all night." Casey advised, looking glum.

I sorta had a feeling he wanted to go to this party. A lot.

"If I can't go, don't let that stop you two from going."

"Oh, don't worry," Derek shook his head. "That won't happen."

* * *

><p>October 31st.<p>

Derek and Casey sat next to me on the front porch in the dark of night, absently handing out candy to the kids who'd come up from our bowl, occasionally taking swipes out of it ourselves.

I didn't go to the party, and therefore, they didn't either. I protested about this, but they simply waved it off.

I didn't like getting waved off, no matter whether the reason was for me or against me. It was the equivalent of being ignored.

One kid thought that it was a sort of costume when he saw Casey with no left arm, and when his parents pieced together the fact that it wasn't, his father came up to drag him back down to the sidewalk to continue their walk.

I only laughed... a little.

There were a few instances where Derek and Casey would recongnize some kid from their school, in which the kid would give _me_ weird looks. Though not that many of the kids who went to their school bothered to travel all the way over here, so far away from Fleet Street, it was still a good few.

One instance in particular, however, caught me completely off guard.

Some girl (I had a feeling she was a girl, given her soft features and somewhat curvy body) came walking up, clad in... well, what could I say? She wore a brown, buttoned up vest over a white, long sleeve shirt. Pinstripe trousers with a holster to one side of the belt. The holster carried a folded in, silver straight razor, though it looked rather cheap compared to, in this case, the "real thing". She was wearing white makeup to make her face look far paler than it was, and redder makeup to highlight the dark circles underneath each eye. Atop her head was a wig styled in a very familiar way: wild and curly, shoulder length, jet black with a white streak going through the right side.

How... how did she...?

Before I could examine any more of her with cautious eyes, Derek spoke up. "Kat? Is that you?"

She grinned, despite what I feared she was going as. "Yeah. So give me some candy, boys," She flashed out the razor and unsheathed it in their faces. "Or I'll cut you."

Casey smirked. "That is _beyond _wicked, Kat."

"Um," My voice sounded meek mixed in with theirs, but I honestly didn't care. "What... what exactly is it you're going as?"

She glanced down at me, momentarily confused. Then she smiled. "Sweeney Todd, of course!" She leaned in closer to Derek and Casey as she added, "The Johnny Depp one, y'know."

Johnny Depp?

Wait a second...

What. The. _Hell?_

Derek and I exchanged looks.

I looked down at the candy bowl to see it was almost empty. "Well, would you look at that?" I forced a laugh. "Derek, the bowl's empty."

Derek forced a smile of his own. "It... sure is, Val."

"Let's... uh... go fill it," I stood up quite fast and snatched the bowl away before Casey could make another grab for it. "Together."

"To-together. Yeah." Derek followed my lead.

We didn't look back. We just slammed the front door behind us, and I dropped the bowl to the floor immediately and lunged at Derek like a cheetah. There was a moment of silence as we tried to overpower one another, until I finally threw him against the wall and held him there.

"Augh!"

I punched him. "_That _is for calling me Val! We haven't conquered that boundry yet, Barker Boy!"

"Ugh," He shoved me away so's he could free himself. "Why would you care about that at a time like this?"

"Why would _you _say _that_?" I challenged, crossing my arms. "Didn't you know about this?"

"What?" He looked bewildered now. "C-Casey and Katrina know all that stuff about the movie and play. I-I just... stand off to the side and nod like I understand what they're-"

"So there _is _a movie!" I snapped.

"And a play." Derek added dryly.

"Who created them?"

"Well, let's see..." He looked like he was going deep into thought now. "Hugh Wheeler wrote a book... Steven Sondheim was pretty much in charge of the play business... and Tim Burton did the movie, back in 2007."

Huh. Well, I could see how the story would catch _his _interest, of all people.

"2007?" I murmured, clueless. "I never heard any hype about it. If Tim Burton directed it, I'm sure it must've been big. Especially with Johnny Depp right alongside him."

"Yeah, y'know, I could've sworn your Mr. Todd sounded familiar. Voice wise, I mean," Derek looked curious now. When he looked at me, there was a strange expression on his face. "You... you don't suppose he's Depp in disguise, do you?"

_"What?" _I wasn't sure whether I should've laughed, or slapped Derek for his stupidity. "How-_why _would that be? What would he be hiding from?"

"Fangirls?"

"Pfft," I rolled my eyes. "Okay - if he played as the role of Sweeney Todd, the look must be well known. Why would he hide looking like _that_? Someone would recongnize him."

"Has anyone recongnized Mr. Todd back at your grandmother's shop?" Derek inquired, raising an eyebrow to look more sophisticated.

"Ugh..." I backed off from the wall and rested a hand to my forehead. "I thought this was complicated before... It's even more complicated now."

We stood there in silence for a few moments, looking anywhere but at each other's faces.

Then something occurred to me.

"No,"

"Huh?" Derek looked at me again, confused.

"No, no one recongnized Sweeney. Not when we left the shop for my father's funeral. Not at all. Some people looked at him with... caution. But no one rushed up for an autograph, or anything like that. In fact, people saw him and sped up their pace as they walked away," I stared at Derek in all seriousness. "I think they recongnized him as Sweeney Todd. Not Johnny Depp. At least in Fleet Street's area."

"Valerie," Derek reached out to touch my arm, his eyes fixed on mine. "Is he _the _Sweeney Todd? You're... confusing me."

I swallowed, wondering what exactly Derek would do if I said yes.

After a brief thought, I numbly nodded my head. My voice wavered when I spoke. "He's real, Derek."

My friend's hand slipped off my arm. He frowned at me, though this look didn't present anger. Just dismay.

"Why did you never tell me?" He murmured.

"Because," I sighed. "My grandmother... she cares about him so much. And he's not so bad as one might think. Once you get to know him, I mean."

"Your grandmother is housing a criminal, Valerie," Derek stated, still not looking particulary angry. "You... _know_ that, right?" He looked very dazed.

"Well, considering I started talking to him a while before I found out he was the _actual _Demon Barber, it was... a freaky discovery," I explained bitterly. "I ran away from him at first. I ended up falling down the stairs. He... helped me up. He carried me back into my Grandma's shop."

"And then?" Derek pressed, having long strayed away from the wall.

"Grandma gave him a hug. She took care of my cuts. She... she has a tendency to make everything better." I smiled slightly.

"But, that-that doesn't make any sense. If he's not a ghost, how can he be... still alive?" Derek demanded, breathless at this new information.

"Now, _that _is what I have yet to find out," I told him, placing my hands on my hips.

"And how did Tim Burton get Sweeney Todd's look so... _perfectly_? How did he know Mr. Todd looked like that?" He shrugged. "_I've_ never watched the movie. My parents would rather I examine remains underneath the pie shop. Real ones. But... I just don't understand."

"Neither do I," I admitted. "But we'll figure it out together, won't we?"

It was a sheer question to determine whether or not he was angry with me.

When Derek smiled at me easily, despite the current situation, I felt safe with my - _our_ - secrets. "If we must, Valerie. Together."

"Just call me Val. Please." I smiled at him.

By now, he was reaching out to me once again. The space between us nearly closed, until a scraping sound against the window in the kitchen made his hand recoil. I looked away from him, my heart jumping to my throat.

Just then, a scream from upstairs - Mum's scream - made us both jump.

"Derek? Valerie?" Casey poked his head into the room, and I flipped around on the spot once again to face him. "You guys get that candy yet? Some kid is at the door, and-" He broke off on his own. He was looking over our shoulders at something on the stairs.

"Yes, yes, of course I'm sure, Sev-" I glanced up to the stairs to see Mum staggering down them, talking on her cell phone. "Come home _right now. _Please!"

She sounded desperate.

"Mum," I trotted up to her the moment she hung up. "What's going on?"

"The baby - it's coming," She gasped, clutching her stomach. "Early."

"Wh-_what? What? _I-" I backed away from the stairs, wide eyed.

"Whoa," I felt Derek come up behind me; trying to keep me from falling backwards in shock, no doubt. "You-you need any help, Mrs. Lovett?"

"N-no," Mum grunted. "Just..." Her eyes swiped across Derek and Casey, as well as Katrina, who was still standing behind Casey in the doorway with a concerned look on her artificially white face. The moment Mum's gaze settled upon her, she looked momentarily frightened. Then she regained composure long enough to steadily say, "You kids should go home. Come back tomorrow, and... tell any child who comes by tonight that we're all out of candy. Please."

The three of them exchanged a glance.

Derek looked back at me quite briefly, then back to Mum. "If you say so, ma'am."

But I wanted him to stay.

There was simply no time to think about this, though. They filed out of the room, and Mum came to be immediately.

"Get in the car, Val. Sev will be here in a few minutes."

I wasn't thinking straight.

"What?" I looked up at her, shocked. "But-but you can't drive! Not right now!"

Another shriek - this time from outside - interrupted Mum's reply.

"Val!" Derek stuck his head in. "You-you might wanna come out here."

I didn't question him. I just ran straight forward, shoving past him to stand in the doorway. The kid who had come to the door was now running in the opposite direction down the street, away from our house. As I looked to the right, I saw Katrina pinned to the front of the house with a flashlight pressed close to her face and a gun to her head.

"Where's the girl?"

"_Which_ girl?" Kat gasped out, on the close brink of sobbing.

"Valerie!" rasped her interrogator.

"Hey!" Casey yelled, charging at him. "Hands off her! She knows nothing!"

Matters just got worse.

It didn't take much examination of the voice for me to tell it was Geoffrey.

He found us.

* * *

><p><em><strong>DUN-DUN-DUUUUN.<strong>_

_**I'm done. Promise.**_

_**So, the baby is coming early. Valerie just found out that Sweeney Todd is more than just a secretly real ghost story around London. Valerie and Derek MIGHT have just had a moment. ;D But, of course, got interrupted.**_

_**Everything is happening at once!**_

_**AND... will Seville ever make it back in time? XD He's... he's kinda holdin' up the whole process here. For obvious reasons, of course. And I do apologize; I'm in a good mood.**_

_**If you don't mind me changing the subject, I'd just like to say that I went to go see **_**The Hunger Games _at the midnight show. :D Several days ago, of course, but I just never got around to posting a chapter to give you an update like this. _****_My Mom always likes to check to see if there's a midnight show for pretty much every movie we go see. If there is, we go. No questions asked._**

**The Hunger Games _is brilliant and kick ass in every sense of the word. O.O I advise you to go see it. Immediately. It's worth it._**

**_And, since we're on the subject of movies, I'd also like to say that I found out just last night that _Finding Nemo_ is coming back to theaters in fall. In 3D. Now, am I the only one who's thrilled about this? I'm so excited to go see it!_**

**_And now we're back around to the chapter again._**

**_Review, please! :)_**


	34. An Invitation from the Ruler

_**Chapter 34**_

"Casey, no!" I screamed, running forth only to be held back by Derek.

"He's looking for _you_," Derek hissed, pushing me behind him and back into the house. "You're going to have to wait until he leaves."

"Uh, I don't know if you've noticed, but," I jerked my head in Mum's direction. "my mother is going into _labor_. _Child _labor."

"Lay her down on the couch," Derek advised.

_"What?"_

"Look, I've dealt with this before. My Mum's given birth to Tobit, and I was old enough to remember. I watched what my Dad did - my Mum gave birth in our own home. It's not impossible."

I stared at him for a long moment. Then Mum's second moan of pain brought me back to my senses.

"Okay, but what about him?" I motioned to Geoffrey outside, who was still leering at Katrina against the front of the house.

"We'll lead him off the block. We're fast runners." Derek smiled at me.

"But... you don't even know why he's after me and my family." I pointed out, momentarily forgetting Mum was behind me.

"And I expect you to tell me when we get back," He placed a hand on my shoulder, still looking pleasantly calm.

"That's... the thing. I don't either."

He looked alarmed at that factor, but instead of questioning me further, he backed off and out the door. It certainly wasn't important right now.

"Hey!" I heard him shout. "_I _know where Valerie is! You gotta catch me first though!"

I cringed, but was forced to slam the door behind me rather than interfere.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Mum's voice was feeble.

"Lay down," I led her over to the couch. "As much as I believe giving birth standing up over a bucket would take us back to the good ol' days... I don't really feel like experimenting right now."

"We _need _to go to the hospital," Mum choked, though she was too concentrated on the contractions to protest when I pushed her down to sit. "The baby will be too weak. They'll have to make sure it gets special care immediately."

"When Seville gets here, we'll go to the hospital. Maybe _with_ the baby rapped up in some... towel."

"Val-"

"It'll be fine," I reassured her. "I promise. I won't let the baby die, and neither will Sev. And when you gain your strength back, you'll vow the same thing. But for now, we need to sit tight. I don't even think it's... coming out yet..." I shuddered at the thought of having to deliver a baby, let alone without anyone more experienced beside me to tell me if I was doing it right.

No. I'd never be a doctor.

I liked being treated more like an adult, given my age. But there was always moments like these where I would've gladly given over my place to a grownup - let them handle the problem, because I have no friggin' clue what I'm doing.

So, we decided to just sit there.

Mum was having contractions; the baby was obviously not in _too_ much of a hurry to get out of her. Otherwise, it'd be writhing ungracefully on the couch at that very moment, and no will of mine would suggest to go and pick it up.

Luckily, footsteps outside on the cement came to our attention. In no time at all, Seville practically busted down the door. He looked like he knew what to do, until his eyes fell upon Mum. Then his arms went limp, and all he could do was stare.

I rolled my eyes. "It's high time we got in the car, isn't it?"

"Oh, uh," He shook out of his hopeless trance. "Right."

* * *

><p>Well, many screams ensued in the process, but Seville managed to get us to the hospital. Dad taught him a little about driving before he died - no doubt it'd be for an incident like this, in which he wouldn't be there to drive us.<p>

We rushed Mum in, and they took her immediately.

As for us... they made us sit in a waiting room. Apparently, they'd call us when they were ready for us.

But what did _Mum_ want? Didn't she want us there?

Sitting with my head low and my hands resting in my lap, I suddenly got an idea, and I turned my head to look at Seville beside me, who was sitting in the same sort of fashion.

"Hey, Sev, can I use your phone?"

He looked at me. "Why?"

"I'd like to call Grandma. Tell her what's going on." I explained.

"Oh," Seville frowned. "Alright." He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, giving it to me.

I saw immediately that in Seville's contacts was the number to the pie shop.

Rather coinvienent, for him.

I selected it and put the phone to my ear, waiting to hear Grandma's distinct voice answer it.

I _did_ hear her voice, but it wasn't quite what I wanted.

"'Ello, love. If yeh 'ear me righ' now, I was unable to answer. Ain't that m'lazy, jus'... Well," her voice got brisk after going off topic so fast. "Leave a message, an' I'll try to call yeh back as soon as I can."

"Ugh," I groaned, having to change my mindset in a flash in order to get the message through. "Hey, Grandma, or... Mr. Todd. Either one of you, make sure to tell the other that you got this. And listen; Mum is having the baby _right now_, as I speak. I'm... not sure how many months early. All she said was that it's early. Don't worry... we're at the hospital. Also," I toned my voice down, even if I knew that no one else in the waiting room would exactly know what I was talking about. "Geoffrey found us. We were safe for a long time, but... not anymore. He hasn't seen us yet, but he's very close. I don't know what to do. Please, call back."

I saw Seville give a small nod in the corner of my eye as I handed the phone back to him.

"What do you think Mum's going to do?" I whispered to my brother. "If the baby lives-"

"What do you mean _if _it lives?" Seville snapped in a hushed tone.

"There's no promises it will," I soothed, letting my gaze fall back to my lap.

"There's no promises it won't, either," He retorted quietly.

We didn't speak to each other again after that, forcing our eyes away from one another. It only took a little waiting longer before a middle-aged man with a blue outfit and scrub on came to the archway just beside the office desk to summon us in.

"She's nearly finished."

"Uh, okay," I stood up, only to place my hands on my hips. "Which of them - our mother, or the baby?"

That statement received a glare from Seville.

"Your mother," the man looked startled at my blunt question. "She's nearly finished giving birth. Come with me."

Exchanging a brief glance with Seville, I hesitantly began following the man through the archway and down the hallway, ignoring the screeches of some women from different, closed doors to both my right and left.

This was obviously where babies were delivered.

"Here we are," the man stopped at one door, and we heard a relieving groan from inside.

"She's in pain, isn't she?" I took to shoving past the man, but Seville stopped me.

"Uh, yeah, Val. That's what comes with having a baby." He rolled his eyes, though I could see him smirking slightly.

Without another word, we filed into the room. Though as soon as I caught sight of Mum lying on the nearest bed, clad in a hospital gown, we were nearly run over by a few doctors who were carrying a bundle out the door. A pink blanket, with something rapped in it...

I felt breath getting caught up in my throat as I glanced back at Mum. "What...?"

"What happened?" Seville advised my question, staring at Mum cautiously. "Is the baby okay?"

"She's fine," Mum answered, a small smile on her face. "But..."

"But?" I prompted, walking over to sit down beside her, my heart pounding hard for some reason.

"She's weak. They'll need to keep her here for a little while," Mum explained, looking calm. "They are supposed to call when we're able to come and pick her up."

"Well," I offered a reassuring smile. "That's great! Isn't it?"

Seville sat on Mum's other side with a smile of his own, nodding his head in agreement.

"I just... wish that your father was here. To see her." Mum murmured.

"I'm sure he's watching from somewhere," I whispered, touching her arm. "I know he wouldn't leave us."

Just after I finished speaking, Seville's phone rang.

Seville went to answer it, but I held out a hand, stopping him in mid motion. "_I _made the message, didn't I?"

My brother looked at me for a few heartbeats, reluctant, until he finally handed his phone across the bed to me.

A soft smile reached my lips as I flipped the phone open and put it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Deary!" Grandma's voice sounded loud in my ear at first, and I could nearly hear the pounding of her heart over the phone. "What's 'appening? Is the baby born? Are you three okay?"

"We're all fine," I smiled at Mum and Sev as I spoke. "The baby is-"

"Y'hear that, Mr. T?" Grandma sounded as though she had briefly taken her ear away. "Put the ruddy razors down - Geoffrey ain't with 'em right now."

In the background - most likely a few feet away - I heard Sweeney's rough voice answer her. "We're not taking anymore chances, Elle. I'll put it down when I bloody well want to!"

I hadn't realized I was grinning until Grandma started talking to me again. "What were yeh sayin' then, dear?"

"The baby came early. She's weak, and-"

"So it's a girl, then?" Grandma was sounding more excited by the minute.

"Yes," I confirmed, not minding at the moment that I was getting repeatedly interrupted by her. "And she's going to have to stay in the hospital for a little while until we can take her home."

"Eh, they ain't got a clue what they're talkin' 'bout. You three should snag 'er in the middle of the night."

"I don't think so," I forced a chuckle at those words. "Uh... can I talk to Mr. Todd for just a sec?"

"'Course, dear." Grandma sounded as though she had hoped I'd ask that.

In the background, I heard more talking.

"She wants to talk to yeh, love."

"Why?" I heard the clinking of a glass. I could picture the Demon Barber putting down a shot glass after swallowing the whole thing in one go.

"She wouldn't tell me. Jus' take the phone."

"Uh," Sweeney sounded startled, and I could picture Grandma abruptly shoving the phone into his hands and walking away without giving him any instructions.

Did he even know how to use a phone?

There was hesitance in his voice when he spoke. "Valerie?"

My smile vanished. I got up off the bed until I reached the opposite wall, pushing all my weight into the hand that I had pressed against it. My own tone was quiet. "What do we do?"

"What?" I could tell just by listening to him that he was feeling particulary short and brisk at the moment. I supposed that was good.

"As far as I know, my new sister narrowly escaped death just now. She's not entirely developed."

"And how does this concern myself?" Sweeney asked, his voice growing softer with every word.

In all honesty, I was truly touched; He was striving to understand me. He really was.

"If Geoffrey hurts her, I swear-"

"_No_, Valerie, _I _swear," Sweeney interrupted me. He sounded firm. "If Geoffrey harms her in any way, I will _personally _make him unrecongnizable to the public eye."

"Hm," I gave a little smirk. "Is that what you call the act of the protector?"

"No, lass," Sweeney's voice didn't waver. "_That_ is what I call the act of family instinct." He didn't pause to let me take in what he had just said, as much of a mouth full as it was. "Now, I'm expecting to see you on Fleet Street in little to no time at all."

"I don't know... Am I aloud back in your domain?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, still smirking.

His deadpan answer came faster than expected, and with a hint of humor to accompany it. "I believe you know where you stand here. We'll see, won't we?"

I smiled. "...I promise, we won't take long."

I could picture him with a careless look on his face as he got the last word in. "You'd better not. I don't know about your grandmother, but _my _shop door gets locked at midnight."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Oh, Sweeney. You silly, 'apathetic' man.<strong>_

_**What can I say? I adore writing scenes like this with him. Especially with the vague mentioning of Fleet Street being his "domain". It's rather true, isn't it?**_

**_Now, before you start wondering, it's correct: Val's newborn sister was born on Halloween night. That might just be something to hang over her head in some point in the future, eh?_**

**_Oh, how I _do_ love creating new, forshadowing-ish characters. :)_**

**_I'd love it if you reviewed!_**

**_P.S - is anyone else excited for this?: h t t p : / / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m / w a t c h ? v = j a - q j G e D B Z Q & l i s t = F L W Z 2 4 k D e A x P L H 3 x e g Z Y P k o A & i n d e x = 3 & f e a t u r e = p l p p _ v i d e o_**

**_I loved the ending, with Diego. "Excuse me, I happen to be a remorseless assassin." ~ Reminds me of Sweeney. XD_**


	35. Wishful Thinking

_**Chapter 35**_

"Your baby will be fine, Mrs. Lovett," a woman in yet another scrub reassured Mum, resting a hand on her shoulder. "You're sweating and tired. You need to get going home. We'll call you in the morning to tell you how she's doing."

I stood at Mum's arm, Seville on her other side.

Mum wanted to see the baby before we left, but eventually, she got talked out of it.

She was terribly tired. Even _I _thought it was what was best.

I was tired too.

So, Mum got dressed. We left the room.

We were headed for the door when I began conversation again. "So... what was the name again? For the baby?"

"Madeline," Mum replied, a light smile on her face. "That's what her name is going to be."

I lapsed into silent thought again, running the name a few times through my head.

The two siblings, Valerie and Seville - they now have a sister: Madeline.

Valerie, Seville, and Madeline.

Wow.

* * *

><p>I woke the next morning with a clear head. Feeling a little more peace than I had felt in days, I quickly stretched and left the room.<p>

November 1st.

It'd be getting cold soon.

The night before had been rather chilly, but now December was on its way.

Snow.

Ugh.

Well... I suppose it'd be better to deal with than skin peeling.

I trudged down the stairs, rubbing my eyes.

It was then that I noticed Seville outside through the right hand side window next to the front door. He was sitting on the stairs, doing absolutely nothing.

A number of possible reasons for why he'd be out there were running through my head, but I knew the exact reason why _I _felt the need to get outside and talk to him; I hadn't told him or Mum what I was talking to Sweeney about over the phone.

There _was _a slightest bit of questioning, but I brushed it off.

They didn't know that I was surely planning on going back.

The barber expected me.

Bracing myself, I headed over to the wooden closet against the wall in the living room and slipped on my sweater. I then opened the front door and walked across the porch to sit down on the stairs with my brother.

"You okay?" I asked delicately, knowing that, most likely, there _would _be something wrong at the moment. Now would be as good of a time as any to sulk about whatever it was troubling you.

Especially in our case.

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just..." Seville sighed. "Last night, at the party..."

Seville had gone out to a party the night before, it being Halloween and all. I was unable to even _fathom _what went on at on at a party on a night like that.

"Yeah?" I prompted, only noticing then that he had left a pause hang in the air.

"Olivia was _talking_ to me," Seville blurted, looking openly glum now.

"Olivia?" I echoed, momentarily confused. "Olivia Woodward?"

"The very same," He sighed, facepalming himself. "Then Mum called, and-"

"Augh," I echoed his sigh in turn, shaking my head. "I'm sorry, Sev."

"Yeah, well," He frowned at me. "What's done is done. Y'know... little _Maddie _decided to come out a little sooner than we were hoping."

I released a soft string of laughter. "Maddie. I like it." It was a nice nickname.

"In any case, I'm sure you'll get to talk to Olivia again soon. I think she likes you."

Seville hadn't noticed the teasing way I raised my eyebrows at the mentioning of his kinda/sorta love interest, because he looked away down the street again, distant.

I leaned back on my hands, thinking now.

How did I break it to him, then? That I had made secret arrangements with the Demon Barber himself to return to Fleet Street in order to be under guard again?

I think Seville was relieved to be away from that semi-evil place.

It _was _evil, no doubt.

And I knew he wouldn't be keen on going back after he finally got away.

But now that the part of his memory that was meant to be wiped away for good was back and thriving in his head again, were his views on Mr. Todd different?

The front door suddenly creaked open behind us.

I turned to look over my shoulder and found Mum stepping out onto the porch, smiling at us.

She looked just as content as I felt... Well, minus my thoughts, as they were the only things that set me on edge.

"Hey, guys."

"Hi, Mum." I didn't listen to Seville's greet. I went right back to my thinking.

Did Mum know Geoffrey literally went right past our house last night? Or was she too caught up in child labor to hear about it?

Surely she must've overheard me and Derek talking at the doorway when the nutcase showed up...

Not to mention Katrina's screams when Geoffrey had her pinned to the wall!

Fiddling with my hair again, I glanced up from my knees to look at Sev. He was staring off into space, but when he noticed me, he turned to meet my eyes.

"What?"

I just stared at him, speech not quite coming to my aid immediately.

"Val?" Seville tried.

"Sev," I cleared my throat and broke the lock our eyes made on one another, my eyes travelling the length of the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Still, I didn't say anything else after that.

Why was this so hard?

"What is it?" Seville tried again, plainly wondering why I said his name with no reason to back it up.

I didn't have to look over my shoulder to know Mum was looking at me now, too.

Sighing, I leaned back against the stair and let my weight rest on my elbows, which were the only things propping up the upper half of my body. "Geoffrey came past the house yesterday." My voice was robbed of all feeling.

Better to spill it bluntly, just so Mum didn't know I was worrying as much as she was about to.

_"What?" _Mum sat upright in her chair.

I swiveled around on the spot to look up at her. "Right when you told us that the baby was coming, Geoffrey had one of Derek's friends pinned against the house with a gun to her head. He was asking her where I was."

"He's... after you?" Seville murmured, staring at me questioningly.

I... didn't exactly tell him _that_ part.

Willing them to brush the topic off as I was, I waved my hand in the air. "He's after _all _of us, remember?"

"And what of the girl?" Mum demanded, looking edgy. "Did she tell him where you are?"

I forced a bitter laugh. "Mum, if she did, I would've been dead by now." I smiled a bit as I went on. "She, Derek, and Casey led him away."

"Let's get inside," Mum stood up from the chair. "We're not safe out here."

"Mum, wait," I jumped to my feet in a flash and nearly bumped into her in the process of stopping her from going any further. "We've been hiding for too long."

Mum stared down at me, raising an eyebrow. "What do you propose we do instead, Valerie?"

I could nearly _feel _Seville cringing a few feet behind me.

"Well," I swallowed, now unsure. "We could... we could do with some protection, don't you think?"

"What kind of protection?" Mum questioned. "Only if it's something we can afford can we-"

"Oh, no," I interrupted her, shrugging. "The form of protection I had in mind is... pretty free. Actually, it's very free. Or... it's - it's _just_ free."

"Oh?" Mum looked greatly lost by this time. She rested her hands at her hips before I could predict her doing. "Do tell."

"Mum," I began, my eyes not straying away from her's for a second. "On Fleet Street, Geoffrey knew where we were. But, c'mon, we had a guy wielding _straight razors _who was willing to protect us. Don't you think-"

"Mr. Todd's not going to kill anyone," Seville's voice advised from beside me, making me jump as I hadn't realized he was there until he spoke. "He's over that, isn't he?"

"I'm not so sure," I murmured. An odd combination of both pity and reassurance fell over me all at once. "Why do you suppose Sev got _attacked _by him?"

Mum sighed. "Your grandmother told me he had a nightmare. Of what, I don't know. I think only she knows."

I stared at her, dumbstruck for a moment. Then I regained my composure. "No... that's not what I meant. I _know_ he had a nightmare. But what I was getting at was that his past life still disturbs him. Even in his sleep." I glared down the block, suddenly feeling bitter. "When he lunged at you, Sev, I think he was half asleep and invisioned you as... the Judge."

Seville's jaw fell agape. "I... Why?"

"Because the injustice that was done to him is not something that will just go away when he doesn't want to feel the _pain_ anymore!" I snapped, not very surprised at myself when I knew I was shouting. "If I were him, I'd've wanted to kill the Judge over, and over, and over again. Sweeney only got to do it _once_."

My voice was shaking. Mum looked visibly concerned, while Seville looked shocked.

My fists clenched at my hips, I turned away from them and pushed the front door open, heading back inside without so much as a parting word.

* * *

><p>That night, I drifted in and out of sleep. By the time I woke the next day, I was merely exhausted from shifting around on my bed so much, unable to get comfy.<p>

Caught in a flurry of thoughts, I found myself lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling as morning came. A familiar pang of anguish and confusion that I'd never bother showing in front of Mum or Sev was, believe it or not, not tearing, but knawing on my heart. When I thought about it more, it was more apparent to me that it wasn't my heart, but just a place in my chest that a mist of doubt and hesitance resided.

Finally, for the first time in a long time, I wasn't thinking about my problems in school. Dakota. Her friends.

I was thinking about others. Others and their whereabouts, because it unfortunately took me long enough to realize that some of my problems weren't as crucial as others.

What if some guy wanted Mum all to himself, so he sent Dad away and as soon as he was finished with Mum, he decided to take _me _too? I could only imagine what he'd do to Sev...

Kill him, probably.

Why was I left out in the dark for so long? _Everyone _should be, perhaps not fortunate, but guided enough to know the story of Benjamin Barker and his wife. It taught me to look at things in so many different angles than I already was. It taught me the "what if's" in life.

My whole family could be gone tomorrow, and I could be a completely new person.

A new, bitter person who wants nothing but revenge...

Sweeney Todd is strong. But not the way one would think.

Benjamin let fear, anger and hate consume him, and those three elements make up who the Demon Barber is.

In a sense, that'd make him weak, too.

No matter; He was, is, and always will be a human being, just like everyone else. Just like my father, who I'll always love.

I can't say that's _all _that matters. But... I'd say it's pretty close.

In all my blurred thinking, I dozed off again. Unlike all my other dreams, this one was... Well, it didn't give off the same sort of vibe as all the others...

"Sir," came that Cockey-accented voice. "Wh-what's your name?"

There, crossing the street in front of 186, was that nineteen-year-old girl letting a man in his mid-fourties with a bleeding slit in his throat lean on her as they walked.

Sweeney didn't respond. He was shaking, and the more I watched, the more it was obvious to me that he was feebly trying to push away from her grasp.

"Sir, _please_," the girl pleaded, looking desperate. "We can't stop. Not when you're so-"

"Sod. _Off_." Sweeney croaked, a flare of vehement appearing in his eyes. On the last word, he sucessfully managed to push her away. But as soon as he was free of her arms, he fell to the cobblestone with a choked sound. Blood was already pooling around his neck in seconds.

"Oh God," she - Grandma... I knew she was Grandma - knelt down beside him. "I'll-I'll go get 'elp, eh? I-I promise!" She then stood up and ran across the street, only making it a few steps before stopping and turning on her heel again. "Better yet, love-"

Her voice broke off when she saw the barber already breathing his last breath before going limp.

Her jaw fell agape. "I..."

Silence.

Then she lifted her wrist to her mouth that looked as though it had something similar to a watch rapped around it. She spoke into it, sounding as though she wanted to cry. "Cam... I want to go back now."

In seconds, she evidently got her wish, because she disappeared into _thin air._

I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn't just seeing things, until the disappearing figure of Sweeney's body caught my attention.

Him, too? What was going on?

A minute or so passed, and then a scream of a woman from inside the shop went off, right after I heard a ferocious yell that sounded an awful lot like Mr. Todd.

_"Really living it!"_

For some reason, that burn on my arm felt as though it were acting up again, just slightly. I didn't give myself time to comprehend it, because I saw Grandma sneaking down the street again towards the shop.

Her face expressed so much more meaning this time.

A look that somehow said, "Okay, this is it. I'm _not_ failing again."

She vanished inside the shop. This time, however, it seemed to be taking her longer to get out.

I let my eyes glaze over and up to the sloped window of Sweeney's shop, where I saw splatters of blood present against the glass. At the sight of them, I doubled back, nearly forgetting about... _that_.

Still, nothing.

What was taking her, or them, so long?

Then, at the least expected moment, I woke up on my bed again.

Ugh. Damn.

I sat up and took a long moment to scowl at that, and the feeling of dryness in my throat. Then I left my room and headed downstairs, my eyes still half closed and drowsy, not willing to open them to a full.

The thought of falling crossed my mind, but... eh.

When I walked into the kitchen, Mum and Seville were already sitting at the table. Mum was drinking coffee, and Sev was staring off into space.

"Ah, Val," Mum looked at me, not appearing as agitated as I would've thought. "You know the doctors called yesterday? Madeline's doing well."

"Good," I muttered as I pulled out the bag of bread. I was popping two pieces in the toaster when she spoke again.

"We've also been talking..."

"We?" I questioned, swiveling around to look at her. "Does Sev replace Dad now when it comes to decisions around here?"

Seville looked up at me, shocked.

"Valerie," Mum looked stern. "Watch it."

"Alright," I leaned against the counter, making sure to keep the fact that my toast would soon be burning in my thoughts. "What've you guys been talking about, then?"

"Going back to Fleet Street," Seville replied, a particular sort of glint in his eyes.

"What?" I stared at them, surprised. "Wh-are... are you sure?"

"Yes," Mum sounded more sure than she looked. "Mr. Todd... He... he's got a lot behind him. A lot he got over. He can protect us if he figures out Geoffrey's game."

I allowed a smile as I turned my back on them to pop up my toast, which was browned nicely. Then I took to buttering them as I spoke. "I'll help him with that for as long as I can."

Mum sounded humored. "You sound so sure."

"I am," My voice didn't waver. "I've had my run-ins with Geoffrey already."

"You have?" I could tell Mum was straining to keep her voice even.

"Well..." I shrugged. "...only one. But still - I can keep him busy with an argument of my own. Maybe that's all it'll take."

I put the butter away and sat down to eat, looking down at my plate as I continued. "When do you... propose we leave?"

"Later today," Mum replied. "I think Geoffrey probably knows by now that we're no longer on Fleet Street. He'll be confused, surely."

"Oh," I sat up straighter, smiling as I took another bite of toast. "Great."

I couldn't really think of one other word to describe my thoughts with besides that.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Ugh.<strong>_

_**I am truly sorry it took so long. I've been slacking off so much.**_

_**To be honest, I've taken up a new obsession that, though it can't rival Sweeney Todd, is pretty close: Phantom of the Opera.**_

_**Seriously. Erik is downright, friggin' adorable.**_

_**The first POTO movie I watched was the 1990 TV miniseries. It's in parts on Youtube. I watched it, got a huge kick out of it (Charles Dance FTW), and I even have some of my favorite quotes from it on my profile, if you care to look. XD And... I'm so pumped about it right now that I can't even type straight (you have no idea how many times I backspaced so far). Lol.**_

_**Then I watched the 2004 one. The one with the actual musical soundtrack. I loved that one too. :D And I'm certainly going to be watching other versions, as well. If anyone who reviews wants to suggest any that you think I might like, go right ahead. :) **_

_**SO, I'm totally going to be writing POTO fanfiction some time in the future. c:**_

_**Now... here's my second topic: "How To Carry On". I WILL continue with it. I know everyone wants to keep reading about the misadventures of Sweeney and Toby. Haha. ^^ **_

_**I got one review from someone, saying that they'd like it if I continued with it. I just want you to know that I will be, but I was hoping to finish DI first, considering it's so close to being complete (well.. I'm pretty sure, anyway).**_

_**So, no fear. :D I may even update it in a little while, because I'm truthfully halfway done with the next chapter.**_

_**Well, that's all. This is getting too long. x.x **_


	36. To Be Selfless

_**Chapter 36**_

We didn't take nearly as much stuff as last time.

The last time we went to Fleet Street, that was.

I only took a book, my mp3 player, a sweater and a notebook. No extra clothing; I was expecting that Geoffrey's demise would come soon enough, and we'd be getting back in no time at all.

I guess that was a rather stupid way to think, but whatever...

Seville only brought one knife this time, as well as a bag of his own stuff. Mum, too, but... minus the knife. I'd've encouraged her to bring a skillet along with her, but I didn't want her to think I was _fully _changed after being under the supervision of the Demon Barber and Grandma.

I didn't really fully change. I just... looked at things a little differently thereafter our visit.

But really. A skillet. Yeah. Because we _were_ going to war, weren't we?

To my pleasure, Officer Barker pulled up in our driveway, and as I squinted, I spotted Derek in the police car. I leaped from the stairs, believe it or not, and trotted across the way to meet him at the window.

"You're a dolt, y'know that?" He smirked up at me.

I smirked back. "Thanks. I know."

It was a bit of a tight squeeze, but Seville and I managed to get in with Derek in the back, while Mum got shotgun beside Mr. Barker.

For a while, we were driving at a pretty content pace. I was leaning comfortably next to Derek, unable to help a smile from showing up.

Why was I happy?

Well, when you don't think too much about the plain threat of death, this adventure of ours was pretty fun.

I looked up at Derek. "Hey,"

"Yeah?"

"What happened with you, Casey and Katrina? Did you lead Geoffrey off?"

"Is that what his name was?" Derek blinked at me.

"Yes. But did you?"

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, we did."

I tilted my head and raised a brow. "What's with the "uh"?"

"Well," Derek shrugged. "He's still alive, and-"

"I didn't ask for you guys to _kill_ him, Derek." I stared at him, wide-eyed.

As much as I've heard it over the past few months, that deathly word still brushed me the wrong way. But only when directed at my family, which it had been several times over.

"I think, honestly..." Derek looked down at his lap, then back up at me again. "that as long as he's alive, he'll be after you guys."

I narrowed my eyes but didn't say anything.

Derek looked concerned for us. Me, even, and I really treated him like shit for the longest time.

When we got to Fleet Street, I wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery before Mr. Todd killed anyone; By killing, he was wiping away all potential for clues.

Especially by killing Geoffrey.

Everyone who was apart of my life was getting touched by the pain, and I wanted to know why before the source got demolished.

* * *

><p>When we pulled up to the shop, neither Grandma, nor Sweeney (that was a given, wasn't it?) were standing outside.<p>

And that was odd... I would have expected at least Grandma.

"Er," Mr. Barker leaned over to Mum. "The last I saw of Elle, she was telling me to swing by your house to pick you up. Called me over here, and she was pounding dough... furiously, when I arrived."

"Furiously?" I cut in, confused. I took a nervous side glance at the shop door, noting the closed curtains.

Seville's mouth twisted into a cautious smile. "Are... are we safe in there?" It was meant to be a joke, but the silence that resided in the car after he asked was eerie enough to answer the question with a no without any words required.

I cleared my throat. "Okay, whatever. Let's go in. We're being stupid."

That stirred movement again. I got out on the street side and rounded the car, followed by Seville and then Mum.

Derek offered me a weak smile through the window, which I returned.

Mr. Barker waved at us through his window as a gesture of support before driving off down the road.

Exchanging a look with my brother and then my mother, I turned to the door and opened it quick without thinking beforehand, like ripping off a bandaid; If I thought about it too much, it'd never get done.

Despite the fact that I hadn't been there for months, I felt a sense of familiarity as I stepped through the threshold into the shop.

There was, as I somewhat predicted, a large slab of dough on the counter with a wooden rolling pin beside it, but no Grandma.

Where was she?

The three of us stood there in the dead silence of the old meat pie emporium without speaking for God knows how long, not knowing what to do or say.

For some reason, it wasn't on any of our minds to go and see if she was in the parlor.

But no; I very well knew the reason: If Grandma was aware that she'd be having company, she'd be _here_, by the door. Nowhere else. Especially if she knew it was us who were coming.

I took a few steps into the room, considering just calling out to see who would answer. But just as I was opening my mouth, and just when I had anyone _but _the Demon on my mind, I heard shoes against floorboards above my head.

"Mr. Todd," Mum muttered, glancing up with a solemn look on her face.

Yeah. Mr. Todd. She took the words right out of my mouth.

His presence could either be really good, or really bad. What I was wondering was why he'd bother to make himself known before Grandma did; It was normally the other way around.

But then again, to the most recent day, Sweeney still doesn't seem to understand the concept of his every move being recorded down here for everyone to hear. He just continues doing what he's been doing for... Ugh. How long?

"I'll go see what's up," I told Mum and Seville, nodding to the ceiling.

Mum didn't reply. She just shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably.

Seville, however, surprised me by grabbing my wrist in his firm grip. "Watch yourself around that tiger, Val."

I gave him an affectionate smile and gently pulled away. "I will, Sev. I think you figured it out by now, haven't you? Even tigers have a purr."

Seville's face was vacant of showing the same sort of hope I felt. He just gave a stiff nod of his head and let his arm rest at his side again, evidently feeling the deepest concern.

By now, trust was all we had.

I _had _to trust Mr. Todd. We all did.

Seville _had _to trust me to know that we could rely on the Demon Barber of Fleet Street.

Wrenching my eyes away from my small family, I hurried outside and stopped at the base of the stairs going up to Sweeney's shop.

Why did I halt?

Was it because I needed to take it slow to see what Mr. Todd was doing before he found out I was there?

Yes. Yes, I think it was.

His unguarded actions when he thought he was alone could tell me enough about what was going on. I mean... what if he tried to lie to me again?

Before resentment started storming up in my chest again, I half crawled up the stairs, trying at my hardest to make as little of a noise as I possibly could.

As I got closer, I began picking up on something from inside. A shrill, incessant, oddly melodic noise. Definitely not a scream, but... Wait a second...

It was whistling.

...

_He _was whistling?

Ignoring the new sliver in my index finger, I crawled up as close to the door as I possibly could to listen to this sound, utterly confused and at the same time perplexed.

As I got a feel for the tune, it immediately clicked in my head.

_Rest now, my friend._

_Rest, now, forever._

_Sleep, now, the untroubled sleep of the angels..._

My eyes widening to, I'm sure, twice their size, I slowly rose back up to my full height as silently as I could manage.

Sweeney Todd stood by the window, one unsheathed razor in his outstretched hand while the other, lower hand carried a folded in one. He wasn't exactly pacing. Just walking a few inches and then stopping to view the blade in front of his eyes, a surprisingly mellow look on his face.

And he was whistling. Whistling a tune that was obviously very familiar to him.

Was this what he always did when no one was around to see?

Swallowing, I took a ginger step back from the door, but I ended up stepping on yet another darn plank of loose wood.

Shit.

The moment his dark eyes fixed on me, I knew I'd die of mere eye contact.

To prove to me that I wouldn't, Sweeney came storming for the door, his glare returning, to grab me by the shirt collar and pull me into the room with him.

The door slammed shut behind me.

I cringed, closing my eyes, and waiting for something horrid to happen.

Only silence met this action though.

I opened my eyes, but I didn't dare let them meet Sweeney's yet. "M-Mr. Todd... it-it's _me_. Valerie. Don't slash."

"Don't _slash_?" He barked, his voice a loud snarl above my face.

I gritted my teeth, awaiting a slash anyway.

Then a question.

"You were spying. Why?"

Sweeney let go of my shirt, and when I finally looked up at him, I saw him standing tall in front of me, expectant for an answer.

I couldn't bring myself to talk though.

How was I supposed to tell him I didn't trust him enough to think he'd tell the truth about what was going on?

Then again, why wouldn't he tell the truth? What false thing could he throw my way that would lead to me having more respect for him? More respect for him... than I already had oodles of.

When I didn't say anything, Mr. Todd released a sigh. He looked over his shoulder briefly when he spoke. "What did you think?"

"Huh?" I tilted my head.

"What did you think, of my song?"

"Uh... It was just whistling." I put forth, confuddled.

"Oh," Sweeney cleared his throat and turned around, flicking the opened razor he held in his right hand shut as he went to the window. "Of course it was."

Somehow, the idea of him being some musical man made him seem all the more badass, if I said so myself.

But since when had he begun anything music-related around here?

"Where's Grandma?" I asked, taking a few steps towards him.

"At the market," Sweeney replied without turning around. "Said she was getting a good skillet, 'cause she knew Amri wouldn't be bringing one."

I recoiled a slight. "Why?"

"Well, Elle has her rolling pin, doesn't she?" Sweeney was saying this so matter-of-factly, I felt even more put out in the dark.

"For what?" I snapped, growing impatient. "Are she and Mum going to be having a cook-off, or something?"

Sweeney flipped around to face me, startled at my outburst. I jumped back in turn, unsure about his movements after all these months of not seeing him.

But we seemed to comprehend one another's state together, because at the same exact time, we both smiled.

I exhaled out all the stress from my chest as Sweeney trudged over to me, draping his arm over both my shoulders and ultimately breaking any tension that had previously formed between us. "No, lass. They'll be clocking Geoffrey in the head with their cooking utensils."

"And you?" I prompted, looking up his chest to view his face.

For a moment, he was silent. Then he looked anywhere but at me. "I don't know."

I hadn't realized his closeness offered warmth until he was gone, letting go of me to walk back over to his desk as he placed one razor back into its holster.

"Wh-what?" I trotted after him, not quite knowing what to feel at the current moment. "You're _Sweeney Todd_," I pointed out. "You _must _know."

"Must I?" He glared at me over his shoulder, pretending to be busy at his desk again, even though I knew he wasn't.

"You've made a name for yourself," I added. "You can't even follow through with it now?"

"Sweeney Todd is immobile without a purpose, lass."

"You've got no purpose?" I challenged, a glare of my own forming now. "Forget _me_. What about Grandma? Don't you care about her?"

"Of-" Sweeney broke off, his chest tightening up like it did moments before I left the shop last. His head drooped just a little, and he muttered the next sentence like it carried a bad taste with it. "Of _course_ I do."

"Why was that so hard to admit?" I asked gently, reaching out with a smile to touch his wrist.

"She knows," He responded, not moving away when I touched him. "With every microscopic thing I do, she knows."

"Well," I whispered, eyeing him intently. "why not give her another reason to _know _for sure?"

Sweeney pulled away from me, rolling his eyes. "Bloody hell, girl. You can't _possibly_ only be twelve."

I grinned. "Was that a compliment?"

"No," His voice didn't switch tones at all. "Why are you so selfless? One would think your life is in jeopardy." That time, I caught a spark of waggish humor in his eyes. And I honestly could not have been happier to see it, either.

My muscles untensed, and I leaned against his desk to keep from genuinely falling over. "There's two people downstairs - two people who are very important to _me_ - and they don't want to die. Not yet, anyway."

Sweeney leaned next to me, rapping one arm around my shoulders again and pulling me closer to him. "I... _might _be able to remedy that."

"Would you?" I perked up. "Really?"

"Maybe," He looked away from me, a dismissive motion in the way he turned his head.

I released a sigh of my own and nuzzled into his side, feeling grateful for his sullen company.

I knew he cared. For all of us.

The way his arm tightened protectively around me told me that much.

This tight grip, however, loosened fast. As soon as Mr. Todd heard loud thumps against the banister of the stairs, he nodded as a motion for me to follow him before stalking for the door.

Shaken, I followed, my heart naturally pounding at a fast rate for knowing I was being tracked down by a killer at that very moment.

I... suppose it was just starting to sink in.

When Sweeney stuck his head outside, his look of bewilderment changed into a look of faint irritation and light, suppressed amusement.

"Elle, use that by the front door. Not here." He was already heading down the stairs by the time I reached the barbershop doorway.

Grandma was standing at the base of the stairs, wacking the banister with a frying pan, a savage look on her face. Mum was standing off to the side, holding my grandmother's rolling pin with a startled expression. Seville was watching each hit against the wood with interest, though he flinched every time it made a loud noise.

"Gettin' ready to beat the livin' daylights outta that no good dirtbag of a man," She explained as Sweeney approached. "We'll be practicin' on every bloody surface. What yeh say to that, Mr. T?"

"Splendid," Sweeney muttered, grabbing both her wrists without looking like he even thought beforehand and moving them back to her sides. "Go practice somewhere else, and, I beg of you, away from my living quarters."

"Pfft," Grandma snorted and lightly shoved him away from her, sniffing. "You're no fun, yeh ain't. S'not like you're not gonna lead us to victory, eh?"

"_Lead_ you?" Sweeney blurted, exasperated, as if checking to see if he heard her right. "...No. No. If-if anyone's going to kill that man, it's only going to be one person."

"What if we want to each take a turn with him?" I asked lowly, my voice grave.

"Oh, stop," Mr. Todd shook his head disapprovingly, to my shock, and grabbed me by the shoulders to steer me back to the side door. "Go in."

"What? But I-"

"Please," He was looking me straight in the eyes now, then broke contact abruptly and brushed his gaze with Mum's and Seville's. "All of you - go in."

Mum swallowed, nodded, and grabbed Seville's arm, then mine. She led us back into the shop, where we sat down at the booth. Closing the door behind us didn't really do much good, if not being able to hear Sweeney and Grandma outside was considered good. The moment the door slammed, they were obviously a close inch away from getting at one another's throats.

"Is _that _what you're encouraging?" Sweeney snapped, and I could tell without looking that he pointed at the closed door, referring to us. "Killing?"

"Well, it ain't like they don't 'ave reason to!" Grandma bit back.

"It's not a bloody trend, woman! It's a way of life... You wouldn't guess immediately without experience, but it is. My life was changed for it. No one knew way back when, but they do now! It's no longer a secret."

"Your life changed for the worst when the bloody ol' Judge found yeh - not to mention your wife. Every stab with those razor blades was worth it. Justice-"

"Right," Sweeney growled before she could go on. "Justice. That word is growing cold, Elle."

"Let's not 'arp on about this, love," Grandma's voice grew silky. "What're yeh gettin' at?"

"If this is how things are going to be... then please, leave the razor work to me."

I felt Seville move uncomfortably beside me, and Mum stiffened a little.

I could picture Grandma patting Sweeney on the shoulder when she spoke, her tone weary. "I won't enjoy it if you won't, Mr. T."

"And don't _ever_ think I will," Sweeney replied hollowly. "Ever."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Aw... Poor Sweeney.<strong>_

_**(Fast update, huh? *insert awesome face here*)**_

_**For some reason, I sense the way I worded things in this chapter may make it a tad hard to understand. But to clear things up, Valerie is in a... rather awkward mindset, focused upon death, of course. Sweeney knows this, and to keep her and her family away from trying anything stupid in Geoffrey's murderous presence, he's volenteering to kill Geoffrey himself as long as Elle promises to keep Val, Sev, and Amri back and away from harm. The only downside is the fact that Sweeney doesn't **_**want _to kill anymore, and he greatly detests the notion for his own, angsty, personal reasons. c:_**

**_Yeah. More on that later._**

**_ANYHOW... Like, an hour ago, we came back from the _Dark Shadows _midnight show. It's past four in the morning, and I screwed up my hours again, but it was totally worth it, and, and, and... *breathes* ...And... good GOD... I'm speechless. Go see that movie. Please. XD It's absolute brilliance, hilarity, and badassary all displayed at once. To describe it simply: Do you know that Burton/Depp movie aftermath moment where, after viewing, you feel like finding them both when they're together at the same place to give them each a hug and go on and on and on about how much you love their work? Yeah... that's it. Because I know for sure now that no matter what kind of reviews this movie gets, good or bad, it was stated by them both that they had real fun in the process of making it, and that's all that matters in my opinion._**

**_I suppose the movie encouraged me to finish the rest of this chapter in one sitting, heh. That, and I got to hear Johnny speak in his Sweeney-like voice again. Sort of helped me pick up sight on the character's feel once more, if that makes any sense. But then again, if you think Sweeney is acting and speaking anything like Barnabas Collins towards the end of this chapter, now you know why. XD_**

**_Hope you enjoyed, regardless. :) I'm certainly aiming to update soon._**

**_EDIT; Oh yeah, and in reply to music is life 99 xxx: I... _think_ there might be a sequel in the makings... It's a rather rough idea at the moment. Though, to be honest, the idea for this story was rather rough until I actually typed up the first chapter and fleshed out the characters and all. We'll be seeing soon. That's all I can say. ) _**


	37. Signs of Madness

_**Chapter 37**_

The day after our arrival in Fleet Street was considerably warm, and even though a madman was tracking us down in order to kill us, Grandma let me sit outside with her in the early afternoon. She was still fuming after her intense talk with Mr. Todd. The Demon Barber himself left her alone outside to go back up to his shop, and Grandma told me that I'd best leave him alone to his thoughts.

I agreed. He needed it.

But even so, I couldn't help but look up at his shop door every now and again, and I'd sometimes see him pass the window; Pacing, probably.

It had been nagging me - what I'd been meaning to ask Grandma - for the longest time. And now I could ask. And I would.

"Grandma?"

"Eh?" She didn't look up.

"Why is Geoffrey after us?"

Grandma didn't reply right away, which led me to falsely believe she wouldn't reply at all.

"What inclined him to kill Dad?"

"Well, love, 'e-"

"_Why _does he hate us so much?" I added on, anger carrying in my voice now.

"Love, shush," Grandma hushed me, grabbing my upper arm and squeezing. "The reason for why Geoffrey's so batshit insane ain't our fault."

I stared at her, dumbstruck for a few heartbeats. I'd've at_ least _expected her to say "not our business", but... not our _fault? _Who said it was ever our fault in the first place?

"What do you mean?"

Grandma sighed. "...Deary, Geoffrey blames us for the state of 'is... family."

"What state?" I wondered aloud.

Despite his glum mood, courtesy of his brother's dark, twisted ways, Teddy seemed fine. Even when all alone in that quiet bookstore of his.

"Look, love," Grandma pinched the bridge of her nose as she began her speech. "The Turpin's are... not much liked in the area, as yeh can imagine. The remaining Turpin's, any'ow."

"Yeah?" I prompted.

"Well... Geoffrey ain't all that 'appy with us, y'see? We're... we're rather much rootin' for the opposing party."

It took a moment for what she was saying to dawn on me.

"So... people spit at the mentioning of Judge Turpin's descendants... Everyone likes us-"

"No, no, love," Grandma cut me off. "Lovett's are the sleesey, untrustworthy ones, accordin' to the neighbor'ood. No one cares too much for us, either. The Barker's are the ones everyone shows sympathy for."

"But _why?" _I demanded. "Our generation has done nothing to deserve anything special, be it sympathy or hatred."

"Jus' the way Fleet Street residences see things, love," Grandma shrugged. "Not to mention the rumor 'bout us 'ousing Mr. Todd upstairs. An' if yeh care to move back to Geoffrey... The man couldn't see 'is poor family fall under the 'ateful glares of Londoners. 'E's been 'olding out on us for a while now, believe it or not. Now, 'e's finally goin' in for the kill."

My heart skipped a beat. "But... I still don't fully understand."

And she seemed to know immediately what part confused me so. "We, apparently, are the ones who started 'is suffering. Now 'e feels 'e needs to end it by killing us. God knows what 'e'll do with 'imself if 'e ends up finishing us."

"And what about Mr. Todd?" I asked hesitantly.

"Mr. T?" Grandma's voice was bitter. "I think, to our great misfortune, Mr. Todd is the one man Geoffrey wishes to 'urt above all others."

I tilted my head forward, grim. "But... but we've got nothing to worry about, right? I mean... no one can cross Sweeney and get away with it. If he doesn't want to kill Geoffrey, he'll at least send him running for the hills."

Grandma huffed, openly expressing her disagreement. "I'm afraid, love, that Mr. Todd may 'ave no choice but to kill. If 'e don't plan to do that, then 'e'll let Geoffrey do what 'e pleases - surrender to 'im."

I seriously doubted the Demon Barber would _ever _surrender to anyone.

As if reading my mind, Grandma finished her point, "What with the state Mr. T's in, I wouldn't put it past 'im, really."

* * *

><p>I took to sitting on the chest for this vision, already knowing from experience that the incidents that were about to happen before me would in no way affect myself in any physical manner.<p>

Sweeney was sitting in his chair, glaring off into space. He, of course, had an opened up razor with him.

However, even quicker than before, the door opened. Not as hard as last time, though, when Mr. Todd threw it open in all his anger.

Young Grandma walked in. She smiled at him in a simple, friendly sort of way. "I... I told yeh I'd be back, Mr. T."

Sweeney looked up at her, but his mirthless expression didn't change.

She sighed and walked in, approaching him cautiously; I could only guess that she already knew he used to kill people.

"Yeh know, yeh don't 'ave to look like that _all _the time," She stated, coming around the chair to sit down on the floor beside it. "I'd be 'as 'appy as could be if I was you."

"Why not?" Sweeney finally spoke in that rough, growly voice of his. "I can now name _two_ people who ruined my life."

"Oi, I did _not _ruin your life," Grandma glared up at him. "An' even so, I ruined your _afterlife_. Not your _life_."

"At least you're taking the blame," Sweeney retorted lowly.

Now my grandmother looked particulary irritated. Her eyes travelled up the chair until they caught sight of the barber's gloved hand that was hanging over the armrest and still rather loosely holding the razor.

With a small, mischievous smirk, she quietly rose back to her feet. Then, almost fast enough to match the Demon Barber's speed, she grabbed the razor right out of his hand.

Sweeney snapped his head in her direction immediately, a look of mild shock on his face. He then looked up to meet her eyes with a death glare as soon as he had comprehended what she had just done. "What the bloody _hell _do you think you're doing?"

Ignoring his question, she took a few paces away from the chair, lifting the blade up into the light and eyeing it curiously. "Wha' 'tis it 'bout these things that yeh find so fascinatin'?"

Ignoring _her _question, Sweeney stood up to glower at her angrily, his fists clenched at his sides. "Give. It. Back."

His voice was icy cold, looking to intimidate. But Grandma didn't seem all that fazed.

I must admit: _I _even recoiled a bit.

So young, and yet so fearless.

"Why?" She questioned.

Sweeney straightened up when she finally turned to face him, making himself look even taller than he already was. "It doesn't matter why. I'd suggest you listen to me, girl." When she had no response, he advanced on her.

Probably thinking she could outwit him, Grandma darted to her left.

Sweeney shot after her, a murderous gleam in his eyes.

It being so dark, she didn't have to run far before she collided with the nearby desk. Sweeney had her pinned in an instant. He only needed one arm to hold both of her's in place, and used his other hand to grab the razor from her.

She still didn't look very frightened by this. She instead smirked up at him. "See? I'll tell yeh now: All yeh needed was a little get-up-an'-go. I'll 'ave to snatch your razors more often."

Sweeney snorted and stood up straight again, looking over the razor he had just got back with careful eyes. "If you do so much as think about it, I'll have your head, girl." He glared down at her.

"Sounds fair enough." She agreed to this threat, rolling her eyes.

Still being back-down on the desk, she lifted both her hands to grab onto his arm and pull herself up.

I took it she had no respect for boundaries; I knew for a fact that Sweeney set up tons of them.

Sweeney barely budged when she did this though, as if he didn't even feel the pressure on his arm. But he did look a little flustered afterwards.

"So," Grandma strolled back over to the window. "This bein' my place now an' all, what yeh say to a little redecoration around 'ere? Some gillyflowers - daises maybe, by the window. Some new paint, eh?"

"No," Sweeney stated immediately, a darker look travelling across his face, like he heard this once before and it only displeased him more to hear it said again. "It is fine the way it is. It always has been, and it always will be."

"I'll bet it was," She frowned at him, despite her smooth tone. "Love, y'know I-"

"_Don't _call me that," Sweeney interrupted, his eyes coldly flaring with hatred for that seemingly harmless pet name.

Grandma backed off and crossed her arms, more so intending to hold them to her chest as though she caught some chill in the air. "Don't get yourself all worked up, dear. I jus'-"

"Nor that," He snapped, taking a step forward. "I've heard enough."

"But I've 'ardly been in 'ere for more than five minutes!" Grandma exclaimed. "Don't yeh wanna 'ear my thoughts? We've got a lot to-"

"No!" Sweeney shouted, whipping out the razor from his holster so fast that Grandma practically rammed herself into the wall with such a forceful jump back. "This will never work out, girl, so go back downstairs - leave me in peace!"

Grandma only held a glare for a few moments. Then she sped for the door and, once out, slammed it behind her.

Sweeney was still left growling at her back, his razor limply hanging from his right gloved hand. "Bloody girl..."

I woke up with a frown in the morning, wondering why I'd ever be left with that. Sweeney never even spoke to _me_ like that.

Obviously, he and Grandma made up...

Sighing, I got off the sofa and came to the recently repaired window, frowning as I pulled back the curtains and noticed what looked like egg yolk - and tiny pieces of the shell - frozen to the outside. Probably from Halloween, which only made me angrier.

"Assholes..."

This building should be respected. I honestly don't care what anyone says.

It was entirely beyond me why Grandma never cleaned it off. Though there was a nagging part of my mind that said she was too sluggish over the time of our absence to get anything done.

Did Sweeney act the same way when we were gone?

Shrugging to my own question that would obviously never get an answer, I turned away, my eyes only briefly grazing Sev and his sleeping figure on the floor as I padded out of the room.

It was a chilly morning in London, evidently. I grabbed the door frame and spun around it on my way outside to trot up the stairs, suddenly realizing how much I identified with my surroundings. It felt pretty good to reside somewhere that wasn't really your home, but very much felt like your second one, at least.

I reached the top of the stairs quick and pushed open the barbershop door, finding Sweeney standing by the window with one arm up by the pane. I saw his eyes snap in my direction, then turn back to their previous position that was overlooking the rooftops of the various shops across the street and beyond.

"Good morning," I chirped, strolling up to his chair and placing my hands on the armrest to lean across it. I was getting ready to ask how he was, but... I think I already knew the answer to that.

Instead of giving absolutely no response or making a mere sound of acknowledgement to my presence, Mr. Todd swiveled his head around at me, completely silent.

I tilted my head. "Is everything alright?"

He numbly nodded his head, still saying nothing, and then faced the window again.

I continued to stare at him though, knowing there was something wrong.

And there was.

"Okay, okay," I leaned against the pane myself, offering a gentle smile. "Spew it."

Sweeney only turned his head further to the right, away from me. But he _did _say something. "Why aren't you downstairs?"

I felt my shoulders sagging. "Is that the problem?"

"No," He blinked back a little anger, by the looks of it. Then he carried on with a certain darkness to his inflection. "But if you want Geoffrey to-"

"Oh, I don't think he knows I come up here all the time," I cut him off, which led to a particulary dirty look from the barber. "If anyone's in danger right now, it's the three downstairs."

"Mm, right," I could tell he was being sarcastic in an instant. "Much better."

"So what _is _your problem?" I questioned, ignoring his snarky comment. "You look... low."

"You always say that," Mr. Todd pointed out, his voice level.

"Not the _dark _low. But... the sad sort of low."

"I didn't know there was a difference," He murmured, still eyeing the street below with no interest whatsoever.

"The sad low makes you look like a lost puppy. The dark low makes you look like a hungry wolf," I was disbelieving at first - really - at how deadpan I sounded when I said that. I may have even had Sweeney beat on that one.

I figured he wasn't listening - that he zoned me out already. But I think he picked up on the "hungry wolf" bit, because he rolled his eyes.

"So... what've you got to say to _that?" _I tried again.

Like I mentioned a while ago, I'm... not all that good at comforting people. It was never left in the hands of me to reassure many, as I'm the youngest in my family. There'd be times where Seville would come to me for advice, in which I'd simply brush it off with a bright smile and simply say it would be fine and not to worry.

I'm better at offering the notion of "_I _think you'll be fine, so quit worrying". Either that, or I'd try to get some sort of different remark or action out of them that'd cancel out the odd behavior. In Sweeney's case... a pissed off look would suffice.

But on the contrary to my hopes of him giving me some sort of glare to show me his old self hadn't completely vanished, I could see Sweeney swallowing down a lump in his throat. His jaw tightened as he turned away from the window to a full, not letting me see his face now.

My heart was thumping in my chest a little harder. I could hear the despair in my own voice as I tried to keep my words even. "What's wrong?" When he didn't reply, I continued, nervous. "You're freaking me out, you know? Can you just speak?"

"No," His voice wavered slightly, and I was beginning to piece together why he didn't want me to hear him right now, let alone see him. "Just go, Valerie. I need to think."

I edged across the room and eased around him, peering at his shadowed face as I passed. He was gazing down at the floor, the stuck out strands of black hair that hung in front of his forehead bouncing slightly for every time he trembled. His dark-rimmed eyes were rapidly travelling the length of the floor, shakily observing each long plank of wood that made it up to seemingly no end.

A single thought crossed my mind.

_He's losing it._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Uh-oh. I think all dedicated Sweeney Todd fans know what <strong>_**that _means..._**

**_Or... maybe not._**

**_Well, if you consider what I said about Sweeney's whole angsty problem in the last author's note, you can probably guess correctly what his problem is right now._**

**_I don't want to say any more than that. I just want the next few chapters to play out with, I'm hoping, smoothness._**

**_Thank you to Queenoftheworldintraining for reviewing! And... I know I didn't mention you guys in the past few chapters - my newer reviewers: Leyshla Gisel, Ivory Enigma, How-About-A-Shave, and music is life 99 xxx. Thank you all. :3_**


	38. The Precipice of Disaster

_**Chapter 38**_

I reached for the knob of the door, then stopped. I couldn't help but turn around to face him one more time. "You sure you're alright?"

Sweeney spun right back around on his heel and walked over to the window again. "Yes."

"You don't look it," I remarked, leaning against the door now. "You know... In your own way, you've looked out for us so well. Especially Grandma. But you don't seem to want to let us return the favor. If something is bothering you, you know you can always talk to-"

I could tell he was struggling to keep his voice even when he interrupted me. "The best thing you can do to return the favor is leave, Valerie. I cannot stress this enough," As forceful and commanding as I would've expected him to sound when he said this, he was not.

That didn't make me nervous.

It made me worried.

* * *

><p>I sat across from nineteen-year-old Grandma at a table in the courtyard, watching her closely as she glumly traced the pattern of the table's wood with her index finger.<p>

For once, I wished she could've seen me. I wanted to comfort her, as bad as I naturally was at it. She didn't deserve to get verbally assaulted by Sweeney, just because he was blindly blaming her for one of his famous bad days.

As I looked up at the barbershop door - getting a strange sense of deja vu as I did so - I was surprised to see the barber peering through the glass, down the stairs, right at Grandma. His expression was unreadable, with a hint of his signature sullen look.

God. Who am I kidding? They _both _needed consoling.

Heaving a sigh, I propped both my legs up on the long bench and lied down, knowing there'd most likely be no activity for a while. It was not under my own control whether and when I came and left. This wasn't particulary bad, but... sometimes things got a little boring if I was forced to sit there for long with nothing happening. But whatever strong force was keeping me here was obviously not strong enough to sheild the real world from interfering with my visions, because all it took was a mere shove to my shoulder to wake me up from them.

In any case, this dream ended way faster than I thought it would. Very sudden, as well.

I woke up on the floor in the parlor, wondering what Grandma sitting at a table and Sweeney watching her from a window had to do with anything important in this whole big mess.

Blinking in the faint light that filtered into the room, I crawled over to the window and sat down by it, resting my arms on the sill and letting my head drop down into them in all my weariness.

Just then, I heard soft footsteps approaching, and as I lifted my head to look behind me, I saw Mum walking in from the hall, clad in a warm-looking nightgown that she had obviously brought with her before we left for the second time. As she passed Seville on the couch, she instinctively pulled the blanket he had over him closer to his chin. Then her eyes focused on me.

"You're up early," Her words were soft and observant, but not scornful or judging.

"Yeah..." I looked out the window again, closing my eyes tight to let the irritating dryness go away. "I just... got up at random."

I felt her hands on my shoulders a few seconds later as she knelt down behind me. "Are you warm enough?"

"Yeah," I lightly shook her off me, frowning. "I am. Why?"

"You didn't bring any extra clothes with you," She muttered, sounding the slightest bit irked by it now. _"Why?"_

Well, that's Mum for you.

"It's not like you tried to stop me from not bringing any," I stated dismissively. "And it's not like we're going to be here long, either."

"Hm," She sat down next to me on the floor, shaking her head with slight amusement. "So rebellious. And I have no idea who you got it from."

"Grandma, you think?" I suggested, tilting my head forward.

"Maybe," She nodded, looking as though she genuinely agreed with me. "All you got from me is the hair and the eyes."

Well, I'd definitely need to agree with her on that one. In that department, we looked nearly identical.

After a moment of silence, Mum's voice grew hushed as she changed the subject matter unexpectedly. "Valerie... What makes you so sure we'll be leaving so soon?"

In all my haste, my first reply would've surely been "Because Mr. Todd will be protecting us". But now, after yesterday, I wasn't even too sure about _that_ anymore.

I silently noted to go check up on him later on in the day.

"I don't know. I..." I began in a quiet voice, unsure. Then I knew that now would've been as good of a time as any to tell her what I needed to. "But, Mum... Look, you _really _need to start trusting him. I know it's hard to believe, but it's either him or... or death."

Mum was gazing out onto the street as she listened to me, giving a small nod of her head when I was finished speaking. "I know."

"What?" I looked at her, confused.

Mum shrugged slightly, though she didn't look at all uncomfortable. "Mr. Todd and I had a little talk around the evening on the day that we came back here. I think everything is... sorted out between us, for now."

"What did you talk about?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

"We talked about what he did to Seville," Mum recalled, sounding as though she didn't really want to get into much detail. "He... he got a little choked up."

"Mr. Todd?" I checked, truthfully unable to believe that.

"Yes," Mum nodded slowly. "He even apologized, in all his efforts. But I told him that he should really save it for Seville."

"So," I smiled. "what did you get out of that little chat, then?"

"Well... we're on speaking terms," Mum replied.

"That can't be it," I stated disbelievingly.

"Alright," Mum sighed. "We hugged. I suppose that means _something_ between brother and sister-in-law."

I smiled, leaning back on my hands now as dawn light hit my face.

That's what Mum and Sweeney were to one another. He was brother-in-law to her, and she was sister-in-law to him, because he was doubtlessly my father's foster brother.

So where did that leave me?

I... think that made me Sweeney's unbiological niece, and Seville his unbiological nephew, if I was correct.

But really, did it matter?

This small family was all tangled up, but we nonetheless lived under the same roof together. We weren't always happy with one another. But I'm pretty sure we all cared about each other, too.

That, to me, sounded like the becomings of a family who could cope well, as unrelated, unbiological, and downright weird as we were.

We were a family.

And soon, Madeline would be ready to come and join us.

Us and our weirdness.

* * *

><p>Here we go...<p>

Young Grandma was standing at the counter, eyeing the bread board with slight confusion in her eyes, as though she had no idea what it was for. Just as she was reaching for the rolling pin to her left with hesitance, the side door opened.

Mr. Todd walked in, carrying in his arms a bundle of what looked like white shirts with... red stains on them. Dried ones, though. He took one look at Grandma and rolled his eyes, then walked over to stand across from her in silence, looking at her eyes that were now navigating away from him.

"My landlady used to pound dough," He advised, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Before yeh killed 'er, eh?" Grandma added with a questionable silence afterwards.

Sweeney's head shot back, obviously not expecting such a heated retort like that. After the question sunk in, he drummed his fingers against the counter with agitation, then nodded. "Before I... killed her. Yes."

"What're yeh gettin' at?" Grandma asked suspiciously.

"That is what the bread board is for, in case you were wondering," Sweeney held his shirts out to her right after he said that, not waiting for a reply. "I trust you know what the wash board is for. Correct?"  
>Unprepared for this, Grandma could only let him push the shirts into her own arms with a mix between shock and bewilderment on her face. "What-what're yeh-"<p>

Sweeney's look cut her off, like it did to myself so many times before. He backed off towards the door, giving her a crisp nod on his way out.

"W-wait," Grandma called out to him, and he stopped. When he turned back around to face her with an inquiring look, she sighed. "Look... M'sorry 'bout 'ow I was acting upstairs. Should've been more sensible to your wishes, I should've," Her gaze moved away from him and instead travelled every inch of the pie shop with a small smile. "But I jus' _know _this place 'as the capability of being viewed in a different light, if we can manage it."

Sweeney was staring at her, looking quite taken aback by her switch of subjects, let alone the first one. Then he narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Well, this place _could _be spruced up a bit, don't yeh think?" She motioned around the pie shop, showing him that she was at least not referring to his shop upstairs.

Sweeney opened his mouth in objection, but then steadily closed it. He gave a small nod of his head.

Grandma perked up.

"Do whatever you please down here," Sweeney said, letting his hand brush the frame of the side door as he backed out of the room. "I don't care."

"An'-an' also, Mr. Todd," Grandma's voice made him stop once again.

_"Yes?" _He stuck his head back in, exasperated.

"You... you can expect them shirts to be right clean by the time I bring 'em back up. That much I promise yeh." It was a little off topic, but it certainly eased the tension.

Sweeney stood there, unmoving, until he dipped his head. "...Thank you." His eyes dropped down to the shirts in her arms, and they glinted with a small flash of anguish and grief. "I want them erased." With that said, he was off and out of the room before Grandma could stop him again.

The nineteen-year-old girl was left to watch him as he went, a pile of bloody shirts in her arms but, regardless, a small smile on her face.

I leaned back against the old, brick stove opposite the bread board and counter, watching as she brushed off her dress, ridding it of a top layer of flour. That's right when I felt a hand grab my shoulder, shaking me violently from behind.

"Uh... wha?"

I woke up, face down on the table at the booth.

Huh. I _was _tired that day.

"Val," A partially unfamiliar voice sounded next to my ear, but as he spoke more, his indentity started to click in my mind. "Val, c'mon, get up."

I looked up at him, squinting in the dim light of the pie shop. "Casey? What are you doing here?"

He backed away from the table as I stumbled up from my seat, and as I looked, I noticed his one hand was holding onto another. Katrina stood beside him, a worried expression on her face.

It was weird to see them both there without Derek.

What could they possibly be here for?

"What's going on?" I ventured, taking to leaning against the door frame as I peered at them through the darkness.

"We haven't seen Derek since that _guy_," Katrina blurted.

"Geoffrey?" I looked up, straightening.

"Yeah. Whoever he is," She leaned against Casey, shaking her head and groaning into his shoulder.

"I did," I put forward, casual.

What were they getting at, anyway?

"You have?" Casey's eyes widened. "Where?"

"He and his Dad gave us a drive back over here," I replied. "He's fine. Did you guys think he was dead, or something?" I scoffed.

_"Yes," _Katrina gasped, letting go of Casey's hand, to which he looked... _slightly _disappointed, if I wasn't mistaken. "We went to his house, and he wasn't there. Now Mr. and Mrs. Barker are all worried because _they_ don't know where he is either!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I pushed away from the door, walking to them both with eyes wide. "They don't know where he is either?"

"No idea," Casey answered. His eyes searched my face for some kind of solution, as if sensing I knew more than the two of them combined. Which I did. "Valerie... You don't suppose... that Geoffrey guy has anything to do with this, do you? Because... I saw your face when he came Halloween night. You _know _something we don't. And he _was _looking for _you_, wasn't he? And... Derek mentioned to know where you were so he'd follow us. It all makes perfect-"

"Regrettably, I'll have to say yes," I backed up for the side door, holding out both hands to them. "You two need to stay here. Okay?"

"Val? Yeh up?" Grandma's voice came from the parlor. She was walking in and nearly jumped at the sight of both Casey and Katrina. She looked at me. "Love... Who's this?"

"Friends," I answered. "They're friends to Derek. You remember Derek, right?"

"An' what're they doin' 'ere?" She questioned, looking and sounding somewhat edgy at the moment. Probably knowing what would happen if any outsiders figured out the secret whereabouts of this household.

Oh. What fun.

"Derek's gone missing, apparently," I explained. "And... You guys want me to...?"

Casey stepped forward, hesitant, as Katrina's gaze dropped to the floor with obvious discomfort. If he wasn't looking at me with all seriousness before, he certainly was now. "Can you... take us up to see him?"

"Him?" I questioned, crossing my arms.

Casey swallowed. "Mr. Todd."

I heard an intake of breath from Grandma's direction.

Then I knew I was dead.

"Who did yeh bloody tell?" She snapped, walking over with her fists clenched to grab me around the shoulder and glare at me hard.

"Just Derek!" I exclaimed. "And," I casted a glare Casey's way. "It _was _meant to stay that way. Derek told me he wouldn't tell _anyone_."

"He doesn't keep secrets from us," Casey stated, standing his ground against me. "We've been friends with him for much longer than you have, Valerie. And I'm sure I wouldn't be stretching the truth if I said we knew him better than you do."

Still glaring, I wrenched myself away from Grandma to look at her straight on. "I'm sorry. I am. I know I wasn't supposed to tell a soul. But..." I looked at Casey and Katrina, frowning. "You guys won't tell anyone, will you?"

They were silent for a moment.

Katrina then looked at me, a curious expression on her face. "Does he have a white streak in his hair, just like in the movie?"  
>I felt Grandma stiffen beside me at the mentioning of a "movie".<p>

Did she know about it before?

"Well," I shrugged. "I never watched any movie, but there _is _a white streak in his hair."

I could've sworn I saw a glimmer of excitement in her eyes as they travelled around the shop, growing more and more giddy for every time they stopped on something she recongnized.

Then she let out a squee, unable to hold it in any longer. "We're practically _on _the set, Case! Can you believe it?"

He ignored her voice for once and continued to stare at me, serious. "Derek told us he was helping you. Which as hard for that is to believe for _me_, he was obviously being serious."

"What's so hard to believe about it?" Kat snapped, looking defensive, for which I felt a pang of warmth. "Who says Sweeney can't help people?"

"The families of the men he killed, you think?" Casey retorted.

"No, no," She shook her head. "Mrs. Lovett said that he was killing the men who _wouldn't be missed." _She crossed her arms. "And I thought you payed attention the last sleepover we had."

How a movie about Sweeney Todd was ever good fun and oriented with early teens and their sleepovers, I'd never know.

I was just his niece.

But in any case... Huh. Sweeney never told me he and the baker woman only killed people who "wouldn't be missed".

In a way, that was pretty generous, given everyone seemed to see him as a cold blooded killer who wanted to murder everyone in sight.

"Valerie," I looked up when Casey grabbed my arm. "If... _the_ Sweeney Todd is _really... _helping you and your family, then I want him to come with us when we're looking for Derek. He can lend a razor, can't he?"

Katrina was grinning straight ahead at nothing right now.

Casey shrugged his shoulders. "That, and... Kat pretty much dedicated her whole friggin' life to the fandom, and it'd really mean a lot to her to actually see her, uh, her _hero_ in person."

Hero? Puh.

That's all fine and dandy, but you guys won't be there when the Demon Barber slaps me upside the head for letting anyone he didn't know up there without his permission first.

And Grandma...

She was glaring at the wall, and I reached to touch her wrist. She gave me a half nod of her head, then quickly went heading for the door. "Where's Mr. Barker, lad?"

"He and Mrs. Barker are in their car, searching the streets. He called up a few of his buddies from the police station, too. And if it concerns the situation, they left Derek's little brother and sister Tobit and Lucy with Mrs. Mooney across the street."

"Wonderous," She muttered, turning her back on us as she opened the door. "I won't be gone for long. Get Mr. Todd if it'll make yeh feel better - I daresay 'e needs to acquaint 'imself with the outside world a lit'le more. But by _God_, don't none of you's leave this building unless Mr. Todd tells yeh to, y'hear me?" She looked over her shoulder at me. "Sev an' your Mum are in the parlor, love. Best tell 'em I'm leaving."

I stared at her, shocked at that mouthful of information and orders. At the same time, I felt a surge of affection for her, and without words walked across the room to hug her.

"I really am sorry, Grandma."

"Don't worry yourself, love," She hugged me back, her voice gentle. "Jus' keep yourself safe, alright?"

I nodded into her shoulder, then pulled away. "You too."

She left, and I was standing alone in the shop with Casey and Katrina, only watching Grandma until she disappeared past the window and was walking down the street.

"Sev!" I called, turning around right quick and sprinting into the parlor where Mum and Seville were sitting, looking as though they were in a very intent conversation. "Derek's gone missing, and Casey and Katrina think Geoffrey is involved, and Grandma told me to tell you that she was leaving."

Seville was squinting up at me through the darkness. The first words that came out of his mouth angered me.

"Who's Casey?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Oh, Sev. You funny man, you.<strong>_

_**Do you smell what I smell?**_

_**The upcoming conclusion to a story?**_

_**I think so. c:**_

_**The next chapter might be rather long, just to let you know. I'll need to fit a lot on it, as I planned this story out very crappily.**_

_**I mean... In my opinion, this chapter alone seemed rather... messy. To me, anyway.**_

_**Anyone care to reassure me? ...Or not?**_

_**(By the way: I totally got the chapter title off a line from the first episode of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. XD)**_


	39. The Demon Barber

**_Chapter 39_**

"Eh, I-_I'm_ Casey," Casey poked his head into the room beside me, making Mum jump.

Katrina soon followed.

"Friends of Derek," I stated flatly, tired of explaining this. "And speaking of Derek, I repeat: He's missing." I let a pause hang in the air, then continued. "Grandma went out to look for his parents. We're alone. She told us not to leave this building unless Mr. Todd told us to."

"Well, I am _not _going to sit here while my buddy is out there, lost," Casey turned around and stormed back into the shop. "Let's go get Mr. Todd."

"Right now," Katrina practically bounced for the side door, then stopped as she looked back at me. "Is he... uh... angsting right now?"

After my eyes brushed with Seville's, I followed the two of them back into the pie shop. "Probably. But that never stopped me. Let's get going." I pushed open the side door and walked out, looking back to make sure they were following me up the creaky stairs.

Casey looked anxious, while Katrina was beaming at how cool this supposedly was.

Searching my mind for possible bragging rights, I perked up as one actually came to mind. "Y'know... my blood is probably on these stairs..."

Katrina gasped.

"Did Sweeney _cut _you?" Casey whispered.

"No," I snorted good humoredly as we reached the top. "I fell."

We rounded the banister and approached the door.

"I'm going to go in and tell him you're here," I informed the two of them.

Casey nodded.

Katrina was peering at the red and white striped barbering pole sticking out of the bricks of the building just beside the door with wonder, not quite hearing me.

I rolled my eyes and turned the knob.

When I walked in, Sweeney was nowhere to be found. He wasn't by the window, and he wasn't sitting in his chair. He wasn't even sitting on his cot in the corner.

"Uh... Mr. Todd?" I muttered, looking around the small room.

Of all times, why was he hiding _now?_

Slowly, I let the door close behind me, blocking out the view Katrina had peeking over my shoulder and past my arm to see. I knew for a fact, without turning, that they were both peering through the small window in the door though.

I heard creaking on the floor pannels behind me. Smiling with relief, I flipped around, and I saw...

Oh God.

No... No _way_.

Sweeney stood in front of me. He wasn't wearing his usual black or dark brown vest. Just his thin, white shirt. With multiple trails of blood coming from his throat. The white cuffs were all splashed up with gore, as was the whole rest of the fabric.

He looked...

Terrifying.

There was no other word to describe him.

I backed up, and he stepped forward. I only then realized the unsheathed razor held in his right hand as he gradually, steadily grew closer and closer to myself. The blade shone crimson as the light from the window hit it.

"You..." I whispered, suppressing a gasp when he backed me up into the barbering chair. There was no where else for me to go. Especially when both his hands firmly locked down on either side of me, keeping me in place.

_Please, Casey. Please don't come in now. Not now._

Sweeney's glare only intensified when he finally spoke. "_What _are you doing here, girl?"

I shifted around uncomfortably. He was practically _on top_ of me. "S-since when was I not aloud here? Grandma said I-I could get you. We... need you."

"What for?" He gnarled.

If _this _was what the old Demon Barber was like, I certainly wanted the nicer one back now.

I felt a little agitation biting me as I replied to his brusque question. "Why else did I talk to you on the phone Halloween night? We _need _you. It's self explanatory to us - to our family. Don't you remember?"

Because I was seriously beginning to think he forgot in the short period of time in between then and the moment I left him last.

Sweeney had his teeth bared from the second I began talking till the final, in which I stopped. Then the grip he had around me slackened, but just a little. His glare was still very well present. "_Our_ family?" He didn't sound at all like he was mocking me. He sounded very angry, but also very confused.

He... He _did _forget.

_How _did he forget?

"Yes," I murmured. "_Our_ family." I stole a glance at his shirt, and I immediately noticed that apart from the fresh blood from the cuts on his neck, the stains on the shirt were all dried. It looked as though it hadn't been washed in... a long time.

I tilted my head at him, my mind frantically searching for something to do or say. "Is... is that an old shirt?"

"What does it matter?" He snapped.

"I..." I was swallowing down lump after lump in my throat as faint, tears of fear began to fill my eyes.

I was stuck.

The Demon Barber I knew was gone. He was replaced by someone horrid and murderous. He was never coming back.

My head was drooping with defeat. Further and further down by the minute.

Having noticed the gleam of a tear in my eye, I felt Sweeney loosen his clamp on me.

"The shirt is new."

I looked up at him, meeting his eyes and seeing the bewildered look that suggested he just told me the truth because he didn't know what my problem was.

I swallowed again, then spoke. "No, it's not. You _used _to kill people. You _don't _anymore. That's why the stains are dry."

"They're not dry," Sweeney seethed. "I don't know what nonsense you're spewing, lass, but regardless, you've seen something you shouldn't have, and now I'll have to kill you."

"_No_," I bit back, returning his glare. With all my might, I pushed him off me, my fists now clenched at my sides. This confidence didn't last for too long, however.

Sweeney looked infuriated at me, but he didn't go after me as I would've thought him to. He just stood there, blood still trickling from his throat, and I gasped as I remembered.

He was losing blood. Fast.

He didn't look too keen to take care of it though.

I took a step towards him, and this time, _he_ took the step back.

"What's the matter?" I breathed, reaching out to him. I barely noticed when Katrina creaked the door open again, peering in with genuine concern in her eyes.

She didn't look nearly as excited as before. She looked scared, and worried.

Sweeney didn't notice either. He kept his dark eyes pinned on me. "Why are you talking to me like this?" His voice finally broke.

Thinking about his previous words involving _killing_ me, I was about to say something snappy.

But then... I stopped... I thought...

_To me, Sweeney Todd's business - no matter who he was or is - sounded far from finished; He never got to experience being a father. And even when he finally returned, he never got to speak with his daughter or hold his wife again._

_The poor guy._

When did I think _that _thought?

Then I remembered: It was just moments before I found out he was _the _Sweeney Todd in question. The one who killed several men a day to keep his and his landlady's thriving business afloat.

I shook my head clear of that thought and glanced back up at Sweeney, who had long turned his head to the window to glare ferociously at the light, probably glad he had this time away from talking to compose himself.

I _know_ what he did, and the niceness in him wasn't completely lost yet.

I looked at Katrina, and then Casey, who were both staring at me like I had a second head. I nodded to them. "Go outside."

Casey grabbed Katrina's hand in a gentle grip and led her back towards the stairs, while I stayed behind.

Then I looked at Mr. Todd. He was glaring at me again.

I think I knew what was going on.

Gently, I grabbed his hand and led him to the door as best as I could. "Can you help me, sir?"

"With what?" He growled. "Where are your parents, girl? Shouldn't you be at home?"

"No. My name is Valerie. Just... come with me."

* * *

><p>I managed to drag him down the stairs in all my efforts. As of the current time, I, Sweeney, Casey and Katrina were walking down the street, Sweeney muttering obscenities under his breath about how he was following children whom he didn't even know who stated he could help them, and that they couldn't find anyone else to.<p>

And that was right. We _couldn't. _Just like I told Mum earlier that day, it was either Mr. Todd, or death. And though we weren't dealing with the same guy I met who was actually _apart_ of our family - who Grandma trusted - maybe then he was most likely dangerous enough to help us out.

I think... I knew what was going on. I really did.

Sweeney was angsting about his shop in the morning, wondering how he could possibly go back to his old ways, even if for us. He thought putting on an old, bloody shirt would remind him of who and what he was. Unfortunately, it did more than remind him; It turned him back into who he was trying to leave behind.

The cuts on his throat? I... couldn't quite explain that while being able to make sense to myself at the same time.

People took one look at Sweeney as we passed, gasped, and moved out of the way. No one ran though. I think they knew that he was no person to run away from; They did nothing to him, after all. But nevertheless, Sweeney took no notice of any of them. All he did was pass suspicious glares down to me from time to time.

Katrina - because she didn't know what was going on - was simply sending as many smiles his way as she could when she had the chance. She obviously figured it was just his usual self shining through.

I'd've liked to explain what was happening, but we had no time right now.

In the distance, I heard a police car siren. Casey picked his head up from drooping toward the ground, alert.

"How do you know it's Derek's dad's car?" I murmured, trying not to let Sweeney overhear.

Before he could reply, I felt Mr. Todd stop abruptly next to me, causing Kat to walk right into his back. He glared over his shoulder at her briefly, and she blushed before trying her best to walk it off, looking away.

Sweeney jerked his head back towards me. "What was that?"

"I'll explain when we find what we're looking for," I promised, grabbing his arm and dragging him along with me down the street again.

We walked for a while longer. _I _wasn't even all and entirely sure what it was we were looking for anymore.

Were we going to find Derek or his parents bleeding to death on the cobblestone?

Were we going to find _Grandma _bleeding to death on the cobblestone?

The thought made me wince, and I hastily willed it away from my head. I wasn't sure if it was that very gruesome idea that made me squirm, or the fact that Sweeney would care less if he saw a woman that he supposedly never met before lying on the street, dying.

Whatever weird trance he was in, I sincerely prayed he'd snap out of it soon.

As my eyes mindlessly examined every gray stone that made up the street - knowing full well that if something was coming to kill me, I'd hear it - I felt Casey grab my upper arm and yank me backwards. I gasped out.

"Look," Casey pointed straight forward down the road, and as I looked, I spotted a police car noisily speeding in front of us, chasing what looked like nothing.

"What the bloody hell is _that_?" Sweeney nearly yelped out the words.

"Move out of the way," I instructed. "That's a car. If you get hit by one hard enough, you're dead."

Sweeney swallowed down his discomfort, then grudgingly did as he was told. But he more so seemed to be leading _us_ up to the sidewalk, his eyes still pinned on the fast machine. "Is it... like a horseless carriage?"

Somewhat grateful that he was starting conversation with me that didn't involve irritably asking where we were going, I allowed a breath of relief and nodded as I spoke. "Yeah. Sort of."

The police car came to a halt when it reached the end of the street, blocking ways from every four sides that another car could approach (not that there were many cars driving around here). Then Mr. and Mrs. Barker got out and ran to their left, looking intent in whatever situation they were in.

"Come on," I ran off without pulling Mr. Todd with me this time, but he followed at his own pace anyway. After seeing the car, he was probably interested in what else he might encounter.

I reached the front of the shop at the end of the street and pushed myself against the window to the outside, then poked my head out around the corner to see what was going on, but I heard yelling before I saw anything.

I scowled as I heard Geoffrey's taunting voice. "You _all _crack me up to no end, you know?" He cackled. "Elle, where's your friend? The barber? Isn't he supposed to be here? This touching reunion would be complete if _he _were here... Well, along with your two grandchildren. And not to mention their mother that I almost managed to kill. I suppose Benny's death was a good thing, though. He never would've protected any of you anyway. And now, I'm starting to get the vibe that Mr. Sweeney Todd won't, either!"

I saw Derek sitting against the brick wall of the long building on the corner, blood dripping from a wound on his arm and a gag in his mouth, which his mother was promptly kneeling down to remove while his father stood in front of her, protective in stance. I couldn't see Grandma, though. I was pretty sure she was standing on the other side of Mr. Barker, though.

Before I could examine this layout any more, I felt Sweeney's hands clamp down on my shoulders and swing me around behind cover of the wall. He was looking at me straight in the eye. "Is he talking about me, lass?"

"Yes," I nodded vigorously, this way in which he was holding me bringing back intense memories. "He _is_. You need to save those people."

"Why?" He looked back with a tilt of his head, sounding ill-tempered again. "What've they done for me?"

God, he was quite the criminal way back when, wasn't he?

What could I have said now? Tell him that his sense of remembering stuff from this time were taken away from him? Or... Or better yet...

"That man's name is Geoffrey. Geoffrey Turpin."

I saw Sweeney's jaw tighten at that name.

"He has a gun - probably armed with way more than that, too. He's no doubt planning on shooting or stabbing at least _one _of the adults there. That boy is being held hostage. Really... Please help them. Please?" I hadn't realized I was senselessly rambling and begging now.

Good people didn't deserve to die. That was what usually happened, but nonetheless, they still didn't deserve it one bit.

Geoffrey wasn't necessarily a bad person. Just a normal man who grew mad from all the hatred directed at his family. If Sweeney sat down and talked with him, even _he _could sympathize.

He knows all there is about revenge, after all.

But hatred was directed at my own family. We did nothing to his. Geoffrey took things a step too far, and I wanted to see his throat severed by Mr. Todd's razor before the other police officers got here to see what went down.

Sweeney was as of now peering down the way with a new look on his face. Sadness, dismay, understanding, and then anger. An anger that lusted for blood.

"I didn't mean to rile you up," I murmured, holding the crook of his arm with both hands. "But quite like yourself, people need help. _Your _help. Do you recall a single moment or more in Australia where you were pushed down, and no one helped you up?"

Sweeney looked at me, and I knew he was wondering to no end how I could possibly know anything about that. But as the question sunk in, his previous one ebbed away, and somehow, it no longer needed an answer.

The only question that mattered was mine, as selfish as that may seem of me to think.

The answer was _yes_.

Yes. With a capital Y.

To my surprise, Sweeney lifted the razor he had been holding the whole time we were walking into view, then reached for his holster to pull out the other. He handed the second one to me, which I was completely unprepared for.

"Hold that, girl. This'll only take one." His voice was grim and, as he looked down at me, his expression solemn. "Don't open it. I've sharpened the bloody thing down to a tine."

Wordlessly, I nodded. Two things were occupying my thoughts: How this would turn out, and how much heavier the razor was than it really looked.

Sweeney crisply nodded at the three of us, and as soon as he took the first step into view of the others, Katrina bolted up front to look at the razor he had given me.

"Wow," She breathed. "It's almost _just _like my replica! Except... more... _real!"_

Oh, brother.

Down the wall, I heard Grandma's voice right after she let out a gasp. "Mr. T!"

"Todd?" Geoffrey's eyes flicked in Sweeney's direction, and soon, his whole head went with them. He smirked. "Finally got over that shoulder, eh?"

"I haven't the slightest _clue _what you're prattling on about, Turpin," Sweeney snarled, and in a flash, he had Geoffrey in a vice grip with a razor to his throat. "What business have you with the Judge? Did _he _tell you to do this to these people? They stepped a toe out of line, didn't they?"

I swallowed uncomfortably.

History was about to repeat itself, I thought.

"Mr. Todd," Grandma's tone sounded confused and somewhat flat. "What're yeh gettin' at? Is this a joke?"

"Far from it, ma'am," Sweeney didn't even look at her. "Stay back and shut it. I've got this all under control."

Geoffrey chuckled, despite the fact that there was a gleaming death weapon an inch away from touching his neck. "Do you, now?"

I could tell Grandma had leaned over to Mr. Barker when she spoke in a hushed tone. "_You've _got a gun on you, don't yeh? _Use_ it. I don't think Mr. T's fit to 'andle this right now."

_Yes he is! He got all decked out in his blood splattered shirt for this!_

By now, Sweeney really was touching the blade of the razor to Geoffrey's throat. Geoffrey gasped out, predictably.

But then... But then...

Sweeney blinked. As he looked down, he realized the gun to his chest.

Grandma gasped as though it were herself, and I braced my own self like I was preparing to pounce out from cover.

That... wouldn't have been the wisest thing to do.

Katrina murmured a broken "No," under her breath. Casey cringed.

Geoffrey's face was dead serious as he glared into Sweeney's eyes, to which Sweeney boldly returned. His voice was quiet, incisive, and above all, emotionless in every way. "I'm going to kill you. I'm sure these people would rather die than owe a mass murderer for saving their lives."

"Good God," By now, Mrs. Barker had Derek's gag taken away from his mouth. She was peering up at Sweeney with a positively appalled look on her face. "It _is _him..."

"'E won't ask for nothin' in return," Grandma retorted. Then her eyes shifted to Sweeney. "We're _family_. Right, Mr. T?"

I saw him glance back at her, the glare leaving his eyes momentarily. He looked like he wanted to understand. But he didn't. Just as he didn't understand when _I _mentioned our family up in his shop.

So he didn't have to reply, he turned his glare back to Geoffrey. "Leave, before I detach your head from your shoulders." He shoved Geoffrey away from him with disgust on his face.

Obviously, killing someone for people he didn't even know wasn't a good enough reason for him.

Down the street, I heard more sirens. Two police cars were coming down from one end, and one on the other. When they hit the stopping point that was Mr. Barker's car, they leaped from their vehicles and raced for us.

At that same moment, Sweeney allowed the noise to distract him. Geoffrey's gun clicked in his hand, but before he could do anything, Sweeney snapped his head back at him and grabbed hold of his wrist in a tight clamp. He threw Geoffrey against the wall stomach first, and he was leaning with his chin over the man's shoulder when he spoke in a husky tone, the razor still held at his side. "Don't even think about it."

Geoffrey was trying his best to glance back at him, but he was held in place too well. His expression had a look of shock and horror in it.

"Barker!" I jumped as a uniformed man who came to stand right beside me called out; One of the men who came from the police station.

Funnily enough, both Mr. Barker _and _Sweeney looked up. When Sweeney realized it wasn't he who the officer was talking to, but Derek's father, he shook his head at his own evident foolishness to continue glaring over Geoffrey's shoulder.

I envisioned him posed the same way while he was going in for the kill, years ago, back on the same barbering chair that I had sat in so many times before.

But Sweeney wasn't going in for the kill this time. At least, he wasn't able to. The officers were dragging Geoffrey away too fast. Handcuffing him.

"If it means anything to you, sir, thank you for holding him here," One officer told Sweeney, tipping his hat to him.

When Sweeney's hands had no more burden besides the razor he held, he sheathed it back in and slid down the wall to sit, his hand on his head. As soon as Geoffrey was taken out of the alley, Derek got up himself and ran for his mother and father, giving them both a hug, one hand still favoring his arm and holding it up as a temporary sling.

Grandma was in view now. She looked bitter as she brushed off her dress, muttering things under her breath.

With hesitance, I stepped out of hiding. Casey and Katrina ran for Derek, but I took a side step away from them to go to Grandma and Sweeney, unable to help taking a look over my shoulder as the police cars drove away, and I spotted Geoffrey glaring straight back at me through the window.

A chill ran down my spine.

"Mr. Todd," Grandma was knelt beside Sweeney, eyeing him with a certain carefulness in her eyes.

His head was down. He was looking anywhere but at her or me.

Grandma looked up at me as I approached, her eyes round. "Did you...?"

"I saw the whole thing," I confirmed. Then I sat down against the wall beside Sweeney myself, feeling concern overtaking me again.

"What's wrong with 'im?" Grandma stammered.

"He's having... a little bit of a..."

"Ain't that the shirt that yeh didn't want me to wash?" She interrupted me, but the question was aimed at Mr. Todd.

Sweeney looked up at her, his eyes weary from confusion. "_Who _are you? Either of you?"

Grandma and I exchanged a worried glance.

"Oh, love," Grandma reached forward to place her hand on his knee. She didn't seem to know what else to say besides that. Her head dipped and her eyes closed. I could've sworn I saw a tear glistening in the dim London lighting.

"Valerie,"

I looked to my left, and I saw Mum and Seville running for us. I didn't bother standing up.

"What happened?" Seville asked when he came to approach me. "We left a little while after you. We... had no clue where you guys went though."

"Geoffrey got arrested," I explained, not sounding as excited and relieved as I should've.

Mum, however, released a breath.

Seville's eyes shifted to Sweeney who was still sitting motionless against the wall. "And... he...?"

"Nothing to see," I murmured, a pang of sadness in my chest. "Let's just get him and ourselves home."

Home. 186 Fleet Street.

I didn't correct myself that time.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Oh, Sweeney.<strong>_

_**He really turned the scare tactic on you all in this chapter, didn't he? Or... I did. Y'see, we're business partners.**_

_**Okay. We're not. But I wish we were.**_

_**And yeah... He really screwed himself up.**_

_**But I know what I want to happen in the next chapter. No fear. :3 **_

_**For there is only one more chapter to go after this! :D**_

_**Are you surprised?**_

_**Do you have more questions concerning the plotline that wasn't mentioned in this?**_

_**Did you want Geoffrey to get nailed?**_

_**So did I. But the ideas I have for the future... Ooh, some are quite bright in my mind. **_

_**Just wait, my friends!**_


	40. This Is Our Family

_**Chapter 40**_

We walked all the way back to Fleet Street without stopping once. Derek, his parents, Casey and Kat broke away from us when we reached the pie shop to go home themselves.

I hesitated at the door when Sweeney turned in the other direction, leaving up the stairs and not long after, slamming the barbershop door behind him.

"Give 'im a few minutes to recuperate, love," Grandma murmured, touching my wrist on her way through the front door to the pie shop, Seville and Mum following behind her. "E'll snap outta it, m'sure."

I disagreed.

He'd snap out of it, but not without _my _help.

I waited until I knew Grandma, Mum, and Seville retreated into the palor before sneaking up the stairs to Sweeney's shop, cautious to not make too much noise.

When I came in, he was sitting in his chair with an emotionally disturbed look on his face. His head snapped in my direction, and he got up immediately.

"What do you want?"

"Please, can I talk to you?"

The only thing to do now?

Say or do something that'd click in his mind. Something that would make him remember his life here.

"Shouldn't you be home with your parents? Your response was only the semblance of an answer," Sweeney glared at me.

"Yes," I sighed. "My mother is downstairs as we speak. My father is dead. I was just supposed to live here temporarily, but now..."

I didn't know. I really didn't.

Were we to go home now? After everything?

"Did Mrs. Lovett give you her consent?" He asked, still an ever annoyed look on his face. "That bloody woman stores too much fondness away for children."

He still thought the baker lady was alive...

"No," I whispered, taking a step forward. "She's dead."

"Eleanor?" He sounded oddly jolted by what I just said. "I... When?"

"You killed her when you found out she was lying to you about your wife Lucy being dead," I explained gently, feeling patient with him today.

Because he deserved patience.

"What?" Mr. Todd's voice was no more than a mere whisper. "Lucy's... still alive?"

"Well," I shrugged my shoulders uncomfortably. "She's also dead. You... also killed her, right before you killed Nellie."

"But-" He cut himself off, his jaw agape. "I never..."

The saddest thing, I think, is that he wasn't getting angry with me because he didn't truly doubt he'd do that. The thing about him killing Lucy probably sounded a little far-fetched to him, though.

"I'd never hurt Lucy," He murmured. Then his glare returned. "Why should I believe _you_, anyhow? Can you see the future?"

"Sort of..." I muttered. It wasn't quite a lie; He thought he was back in 1846 now, and I somehow knew everything about what he already experienced because it was really 2011. The only thing that changed was his time period mindset.

A shirt splattered with blood went a long way, believe it or not.

"And what's this about you _living _here?"

"Downstairs, my mother, my brother, and my grandmother are sitting in the parlor. They're worried about you, just as much as I am."

Well... Seville being most likely the least worried.

"Why?" He questioned, undoubtedly speaking down his nose to me.

"Because you're part of our family," I strained my voice on this sentence, struggling to keep it from breaking. "I wish you knew. But you forgot," I massaged my temple, trying to breathe evenly. "Everything's all scrambled."

"What else do you know?" Sweeney demanded, his tone suggesting he wasn't planning on going easy on me even if he knew I was getting ready to cry again.

Suddenly and completely out of the blue, I got an idea.

I offered a weak smile. I thought I looked convincing enough for the thing I was about to say that was honestly far from being a lie. "You got to the Judge."

I had his full attention right then and there.

"I do?" He whispered.

"You _did_," I corrected him.

"No," His eyes were still narrowed with suspicion, like he thought the notion of him ever getting to kill the Judge was too good to be true. "_How _do you know all about this? Me?"

"You told me half of it," I muttered, looking away with bitterness in my eyes that I didn't feel like expressing openly. I could see his protestive face in the corner of my vision, and I snapped my head back to view him full on. "_Yes_, you _did_!"

He closed his mouth, glaring at me angrily for interrupting him. Then he glanced down at his shirt with a frown.

"Yeah," I sighed. "Change into something less... messy."

"Get out," He looked up, his fists clenched.

"Is that a command? It's usually only a suggestion," I remarked, crossing my arms.

He stormed across the room, brushing past me, to open the door and push me out.

I went willingly.

"This isn't a nightmare," He growled, a dangerous sneer on his face as he stuck his head out the door to speak, backing me up for the stairs. "This is barking _mad_, and there's no way in hell I'll believe it for a second."

With that, he slammed the door in my face, and I was left to peer through the glass with more sadness than anger now, watching him as he stalked back over to his post at the window.

He didn't believe me.

What more could I do?

* * *

><p>Seville and I sat closely together on the sofa in the parlor that night, watching the fireplace with an unexplained, unsatisfied feeling in both of us, despite the day's happenings.<p>

Unless Geoffrey ever broke out of prison, we were safe for the rest of our lives. At least for now.

Shouldn't we have been happy?

In a sense, I somehow thought that Seville perhaps sensed I wasn't happy, and therefore couldn't help but feel the same way.

He knew me though. He knew not to pry.

But I didn't think he'd need to struggle over whether to pry or not any longer. I was thinking about telling him about just how much Mr. Todd's state worried me.

Who could blame me? It was like Cresenta Mooney screwed with _his _memory too.

But I knew she didn't. She wouldn't. She couldn't. Literally, it was impossible.

Sweeney had long taken off his bloody, gored up shirt and replaced it with a fresh one, and Grandma had washed the old as best as she could. It seemed those bloodstains were permanent though.

Even after, Sweeney hadn't snapped out of it.

His mindset was stuck in the past, even though he was surrounded by modern day.

What did he need? To snap out of it, what was required?

Would Mrs. Mooney know? She worked with these sorts of weird things anyhow. It was nothing new to her.

But the nagging idea that I already knew - it just wasn't coming to me yet - was apparent.

If I already knew, I wanted to figure it out for myself, regardless of whether or not someone already had the answer good and ready for me to hear.

I had it. I knew it.

Ugh...

"Do you, uh... wanna sleep on the sofa, Val?" Seville's voice came inches away from my ear.

Numbly, I nodded a halfhearted nod, and he got up to lie down on the floor again. I slid further onto my back and pulled the nearest blanket over me, frowning at the ceiling.

"Do you think we're going to be staying here?" I murmured, not quite looking at my brother when I asked.

He seemed to know I was talking to him. "I don't know. Mum didn't say yet."

In the shop, I heard Mum and Grandma talking to one another across the counter, as they usually did. I heard a few chuckles here and there in the conversation that they were evidently having.

What could they possibly be laughing about?

Gradually, Mum passed us up as she was heading to bed. I didn't open my eyes when she kissed me on the forehead, but I think she knew I was still awake.

Grandma took a little longer, but eventually, she passed us as well on her way into the opposite hallway, going to her bedroom to sleep.

Seville was asleep after a while.

I, on the other hand, waited.

I waited to hear the familiar pacing noise from the ceiling, because I honestly wasn't tired. It'd help me sleep, if it came.

But I heard nothing.

What was wrong?

In all of Mr. Todd's new, troubling thoughts to join his old ones, he wasn't pacing right _now_?

Should I?

I felt my legs itching to get up and inspect, just like I did that one night. The night I met Sweeney for the first time that I could actually remember.

But... now... he'd kill me. He really would. I wouldn't put it past him now.

But he didn't remember knowing me well enough to know he'd lure me up here by not making any noise...

Why did this all have to be so confusing? Just because he forgot his life with Grandma, and with us.

You never realize a certain period of time in your life could be so large and so important until it gets taken away, and then, all that's left is a huge gap that can't be filled unless the original memory comes back...

Swallowing down a new lump in my throat, I got up out of bed; I couldn't take the aimless wondering anymore.

Not wasting any time, I rushed into the shop, passing Mum's sweater that she had forgotten in the booth, and reached for the side door. The moment I was out, I went back in to grab the sweater.

It was _cold _out. _Very _cold.

As I was walking up the stairs, I felt a cold shock seeping through the fabric of the sweater, on my shoulder. I looked and noticed a melting snowflake still resting there.

Snow?

I glanced up at the sky, squinting when another landed inches away from my eye. Clutching the railing to the stairs ever harder, I hurried up faster while trying my hardest not to slip.

I already fell going down them once. There was no way I was going to allow myself to fall going up them too.

I reached the door and opened it, surprised when it gave without any trouble; I'd've thought he locked it. But maybe he forgot to the last time Grandma was up there to give him back the shirt that she couldn't wash without the stains remaining.

I walked as far as the barber chair, and I needed to turn to actually see the source of no pacing. As my eyes grazed the cot off in the far corner, I saw a dark figure lingering atop it. As I drew nearer, I realized that it was doubtlessly him, as hard for me as it was to believe he'd ever sleep _lying down._

Not as one would think though. One arm and both legs were hanging over the side of the mattress, touching the floor as though he had originally planned to just sit, but got tipped over, or something.

As I moved closer to view his stern, ivory face in the little light that shone from the window, I noticed his chest still heaving tirelessly.

_"Your heart. It's a fighter."_

_"No, lass. The human heart is pitifully weak."_

I blinked as I recalled our little conversation, months ago.

Hearts were pitifully weak? They'd stop beating if they didn't have the will to live any longer?

Why was he still breathing then?

I shook my head, knowing there'd be no apparent answer. Especially not if he woke up any time soon; He'd just kick me out again, if he didn't kill me first.

I glanced over at the pillow at the end of the bed that he wasn't quite putting his head on. The idea of picking it up and ending his suffering made me cringe.

Why would I think that, anyway?

I guess it was because he had seen worse, and suffocating violently wouldn't have been the worst thing to ever happen to him.

I dropped down to the floor beside his arm, holding both my knees tightly, thinking with my heart pounding in my chest.

I came up here with the urge to do something before I - we - lost him for good. Not that he'd be gone forever if he stayed this way, but... I could picture he and my family drifting away from one another if he did so. The image didn't thrive long in my mind, because I managed to swat it away before it became too vivid; I couldn't start thinking like that yet.

Getting to my knees, I peered straight at his face and noticed the dried cuts on his neck. They stopped flowing blood hours ago. However he got them, nothing crucial in his throat was hit. But in any case, I couldn't help thinking he seemed an inch away from death when the redness was pouring from them.

Then again... He was an inch away from death when Geoffrey had the gun to his chest, too. Or the time Grandma somehow saved him from the bakehouse moments after that young boy slit his throat. Or... any time in Australia, where prison was cruel to him...

Life beat the living daylights out of him. I wouldn't deny that.

Smiling softly at his unresponsive visage, I sat down once more beside the cot and leaned my head back, sighing. Before long, I had grabbed his arm which was still hanging off the side of the bed and held it close to my chest, unable to help wondering thereafter what moody urge possessed me to do that in the first place.

He didn't even stir.

Maybe I thought he'd slip further away from me if I didn't hold onto him, to steady him.

Pulling back his sleeve, it was hard not to notice the leather, black glove he wore, held together by three ebony buttons. I could tell this was one of the two gloves he liked to work with best in the past. On the raw materiel were stains of once messy crimson, and across the palm was a long, black spot where no blood ventured, because that was where the razor usually was. But I normally saw him as right handed, so I could only guess the glove on his other hand had the same thing.

Shrugging at this conclusion, I eased myself against the side of the cot and closed my eyes, the last thing I saw being the light snowfall outside the sloped window, drifting steadily down to the cobblestone far below.

* * *

><p>The cold feeling of the chilly wood beneath my pants and bare feet woke me up, but the location of my awakening and the reassuring feel of Mr. Todd's arm that I had acknowledged throughout the night with me dozing in and out missing from my chest made my eyes snap open wide. I looked up and saw that he was no longer lying on his cot, so my head immediately navigated in the opposite direction out of instinct.<p>

He was there. His back turned to me, facing his desk, but nonetheless _there_.

He didn't kill me within the time he woke up till now? He obviously woke up before me, after all.

Outside the window, the snowflakes had not ceased in their fall. I could only imagine what it looked like on the ground, and... I could _also _only imagine where Sev, Mum, and Grandma thought I was.

Sweeney shifted on the spot to face the window in silence, revealing the fact that he was drinking something steamy from a mug. His eyes didn't settle on me immediately; I think he actually noticed the abrupt change in my breath before he saw me. But regardless, his head offically turned to a full to look at me in seconds, his expression blank of any emotion whatsoever.

Swallowing, I edged upward to sit on the cot, rapping the sweater tighter around me to occupy myself; It _was _rather cold in here.

"You're up," He commented, still doing nothing but staring.

"So I am," I confirmed, pulling up my legs to lay them out across the bed, then leaning my back on the pillow. I didn't know what he was playing at yet, but I knew I didn't want to leave. It was so conflicting that I knew I needed to stay, but had no clue what to do. I'd stay up here all day to think of an answer to this problem, so long as I didn't have to look at him and he completely ignored me...

"Valerie," Mr. Todd put his drink down on the window sill, then strode over to me with a delicately dismayed look on his face. He hesitated for an instant, then sat down beside me. "I am... sorry if I..." He looked down at his lap briefly, his brows pulled together, deep in thought as I knew he always was.

This though... This was somehow different.

"What's up?" I kept my tone on the defensive, as blunt as I could possibly manage.

He looked back up at me. "I am sorry if I did anything yesterday that... I'd regret had I remembered what..."

He was struggling.

Unable to hear anymore, I reached out to grab his wrist. "Are you back?"

Sweeney stared at me with mild surprise on his pale face. Then he shrugged. "I... believe so. I can't reme-"

I leaned back once more, sighing loudly and breaking off his speech without a current care. I didn't need to look at him to know he was giving me a fairly ticked look.

Well, I can't say I blamed him.

I crossed my arms, intent on being serious now. "Alright. Sorry. What were you saying?"

Before he could give himself a chance to speak anymore, he rolled his eyes in a clearly amiable way. "C'mere, lass." He reached out to me with both arms, prompting me for a hug, but I flinched backwards until my shoulders painfully hit up against the headboard.

Oh, memories...

"Wait a second," I rose an eyebrow at him as I reached back with one arm to rub my shoulder. "How do I know you're not going to pull a razor to my back?"

"Because I won't," His famous, irritated glare returned.

"Right," I muttered. "I'm supposed to take your word for it. Because you backed me up into the friggin' barber chair, covered in century old, dried blood, and threatened to kill me."

Sweeney recoiled away from me when I said that, as though the sentence was poisonous to him. He blinked at me, his jaw slightly agape.

I faltered when I realized he probably didn't know about that part, considering Grandma wasn't even there to witness it and be able to tell him.

"I did... _what?"_

"Forget it," I murmured, guilt steadily overtaking me in time to my voice. "Forget I said anything. It wasn't your fault."

"It was," He nodded, solemn when his shock went away. "It was my fault."

I flinched; He was using that monotonous voice again. I hated when he did that. It meant he was nearer to unfeeling again.

I released a firm sigh and sat up straighter. "I don't want you to feel bad. Can't we just forget it ever happened?"

Sweeney, still seething slightly, allowed a nod. I smiled - despite knowing this was not something he'd just let go - and brought my legs down again to give him a hug. For what just happened, and for all that he went through, and pretty much everything in between then and the moment he was shipped off to Australia. Those were the wounds I intended to relieve by hugging him, even if I knew I couldn't and most likely wouldn't be able to heal something that left everlasting hurt in its path.

I tried to convince myself that I'd let yesterday's incident go, but the way Sweeney held me in response didn't make this too much easier. He just let his left arm rest over my shoulders lightly, holding back, as though afraid he'd crush me if he loosened the slack controlling how much weight he pressed down with.

Had I not brought yesterday up, we'd probably be joking right about then.

Why did I have to be so stupid?

I didn't know how he returned to his original state - the state that remembered me and my family - but I knew that that would only make things a _little _better.

Not so perfect.

* * *

><p>December.<p>

Christmas stuff came and stayed, even after the occasion was over. But... perhaps I'm jumping too far ahead.

We managed to lug a Christmas tree into the parlor. It was a team effort. Sweeney even helped, though he didn't quite strike me as the Christmassy type. That must've been why he pretty much rolled his eyes at everything Grandma said about it, whenever she did.

It wasn't Grandma's first Christmas without Grampa, so she was coping with the holiday in high spirits, despite the fact that Dad was gone. Mum, on the other hand, was having a little bit of a problem with it. So was I, and so was Seville. It was precisely why Mum purposely asked Grandma not to hang any mistletoe above any of the doorways; It brought back too many memories, and beyond that, what was the point? Everyone in the house who might've once had someone special in their life lost them. Seville had Olivia, but she had Christmas to celebrate with her own family. Not to mention the fact that she was partially oblivious to any of his advances, apart from her own, which I did very much believe in seeing once or twice whenever I was around her. She seemed nice.

But anyway... That seemed to remind Grandma of the actual, hidden grimness of the occasion, and it didn't take long for her mood to sober up.

No one at 186 Fleet Street was very happy on Christmas Eve. Sweeney didn't even come downstairs, where the four of us were sitting by the fire and basking in the tree's colorful glow, what with the lights we strung up to it and all. I think he was still not able to forget what I told him, about what he did to threaten me when he was under the spell of a mere flashback that took control of his head. In fact, he had a lot to be moody about, and for that night, I didn't go upstairs. I gave him the gift of solitude and didn't disturb him. And my Christmas gift was accepted. Maybe he didn't thank me, and maybe he wasn't thinking the way I was about it, but in any case, he took it when he had it.

The next day was a different story though.

I pushed open his door to find him by the window, eyeing one razor in hand and looking to be thinking about something. "Hey, we're opening presents right now."

"Alright," He didn't even look at me. "Call me when you're done. I want to see how a-" He cut himself off, blinking.

"What?" I tilted my head, still half way in and half way out of the room.

"Never you mind," Sweeney shook his head. "Just call me when you're finished. Alright, lass?"

I backed out of the room, shrugging. "Eh... Okay."

* * *

><p>"Oh, you didn't," I grinned through the tear in the rapping paper that Grandma and Mum prompted me and Seville to open up together.<p>

The box was huge.

And I knew what it was.

"Our old TV..." Mum began, smiling to herself. "...it was just so... _old_."

I smiled up at her widely from the floor by the skirt of the tree. "Thanks, Mum. Thanks, Grandma."

"Oh, no," Grandma held her hands up, shaking her head. "It wasn't me, love. Just your Mum. We were discussing whether or not we'd want a TV here, but since you two came... Mr. Todd an' I coped without one. I never 'ad much use for 'em, an' neither did 'e, for obvious reasons."

"It's great," I said, as Seville teared off the rest himself. "It's not a huge box of a TV, like the old one. I mean... not that I had a problem with the old one, but this... It's a flat screen!"

"Well, you'll 'ave somethin' besides reading an' talking to occupy yourselves with then, won't yeh?" Grandma smiled.

"Does Mr. Todd know?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," Grandma looked up at the ceiling with very well noticed fondness in her eyes. "'E was curious about it. 'E's seen a TV before, but... as I said, we never 'ad one of our own."

That must've been what he stopped himself from saying upstairs. He wanted to see how a TV really worked.

Well, he definitely could now.

* * *

><p>"What the bloody hell is this?"<p>

I rolled my eyes at the screen as I took the remote away from Mr. Todd to shift to another channel. "Jerry Springer Show. Don't ask."

"That was chaos," Sweeney tilted his head at the screen in a critiquing sort of way. "They were clearly harassing that man and woman. And why was that girl in the audience lifting up her shirt? As if we need to see that..."

"It's funny to watch, sometimes," I replied. "Some people get really into it."

We got the TV hooked up immediately, and it sat in a place right in the middle between the window and the piano, in the corner. It was sort of nice to get back in touch with... modern thoughts and phrases.

Without a TV in the parlor, all we naturally had was the fireplace, books (Well, there was also my mp3 player...), and the piano, which I was considering trying out anyway. Everything gave off that 1800's look, and even when we left the building, the streets were overrun with that vibe just as much. It was pretty cool, in all honesty. It just felt good to get in touch with the correct time again, as stupid as these times usually were.

After a while, Sweeney threw his arms up in a huff and left the room to go get a drink in the shop. I didn't blame him. I had a feeling I'd be teaching him the stuff he didn't know little by little, in time. There was no danger for coming here anymore, if we were ever even planning to leave.

I heard him, Mum, Grandma, and Seville talking in the pie shop, but I opted for staying in the parlor and watching _Legend of the Guardians: the Owls of Ga'hoole _instead, even if I missed part of the beginning. I watched it once before already, anyway. Gylfie was my favorite character, from the books and the movie. She reminded me of myself a lot.

Regardless of how long I stayed there watching it, I knew my family would be up for hours on end, and I could walk in to join the conversation at any time. My words _did _matter, after all.

I also knew Seville and I wouldn't be going to school for a couple months yet from then.

Oh, happy day.

Take _that_, Dakota.

* * *

><p><strong><em>And... we end this fanfic's suffering.<em>**

**_*bows*_**

**_;3_**

**_Now... Ahem... _**

**_That was fun. :D_**

**_If you care to read, I've got a few trivia-like things that you might want to hear about this story:_**

**_- The name Valerie was inspired off the main character's name from Red Riding Hood (the 2011 one), which I went to go see in theaters. The personality between the two, if you look, may be similar in some ways, even if I took the liberty of putting a little of myself into Valerie Lovett, along with the personality of Coraline Jones (Who I'm about to mention)._**

**_- The relationship between Valerie and Derek was inspired off of the relationship between Coraline Jones and Wybie Lovat from the movie _Coraline. _Also quite similar, if you look._**

**_- I was in the midst of reading a _Goosebumps _book when the first few fragments of this story started coming to me (in, I believe, mid/late July)... For some reason, the song _Once in Every Lifetime _by Jem was stuck in my head. So I got up off the couch and went on the computer to search the song and listen to it (partly because I wanted it out of my head, and partly because it was rather catchy, and lastly... because an idea was slowly beginning to form). _Sweeney Todd_ was naturally on the brain though, and I knew from getting inspired by all the other fanfics that I wanted to write a story like this - I just had to come up with a good storyline. The original idea for the story was that Valerie (possibly without a sibling, and with the last name Valentine rather than Lovett) was going to meet up with Derek after some mishap with her parents that left her alone. She was also going to meet a descendant of Lucy's family, as well as Mrs. Mooney's, all kids her age. I didn't go far enough. They were supposed to go on some epic adventure, but I couldn't think of anything else beyond that, besides the fact that Sweeney Todd himself would eventually be getting involved. After a while, I decided to do something a little... simpler to follow. So I only scraped small parts of the old idea and tried again, and... _this _was the result._**

**_It was certainly a distinct highlight in my horribly crappy year, 2011. _**

_***salutes my brain* I overwork you way too much. But I love you. ^^**_

_**Now... I know there are some questions left unanswered, and I know the ending to this chapter doesn't sound final enough. Though I'm currently promising a sequel that hasn't yet been done for an old **_**Lion King**_** story of mine, I **_**am**_** promising a sequel for this. If my strangely wired mind doesn't come up with something on the contrary, it will be called **_**B****reathe In. _Look out for it, and please review this last chapter of DI. :)_**

**_P.S. - I'm also hoping to get back to work on _How To Carry On, _so... do watch out for that as well._**


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